Dreamer
by SmurfyFriend
Summary: Dreamy smurf has been ignored and his dreams shot down his whole life. He's wanted to leave his whole life, but his twin brother Hefty has kept him anchored here. Will Dreamy find another reason to stay? Or will he simply always remain only a dreamer?
1. Chapter 1 Another Day

Dreamer

It was the first full moon of winter, and a certain three-apples- high red-clad father figure was rushing to the Fairy Circle with two special bundles in his arms. He only had a few more minutes to get to where he needed to go. He couldn't wait! Tonight was the night two of his sons would speak their first words!

Papa Smurf reached his destination without trouble. He shifted his weight so that he could place the heavier built of the two atop of the mushroom in the center. Slowly, other smurfs, young, old, and of all different colored clothing gathered to hear the bigger tyke smurf his first words. The young child looked around a bit confused, but began to feel the magical glow of the full moon illuminate his blue skin. The smallish smurfling waved his arms a little, like a baby bird flapping its wings. "Eh- E—EXERCISE!" he blurted out.

The smurfs that had joined the proud father chirred and cooed among themselves. "Ah, somehow I'm not surprised! You're always lifting things, and—"the proud Papa was interrupted by the curious youngster grabbing for his burnt umber colored beard and trying to grab it for himself. "—Ouch! And you certainly have a strong grip!"

Papa Smurf lifted the youngster off the mushroom pedestal and held him up "I think a suiting name would be… Hefty! Hefty Smurf!" He declared.

The other smurfs seemed to purr among themselves, and applauded. Papa turned his head to search for his mate in the crowd. "Ameliasette, could you please take this one? I- ouch! - Don't think I can take the other one, AND this little squeezer!"

A willowy smurfette slinked through the crowd and joined her mate. She chuckled slightly at her lover's expense. "hehe. Oh, Hefty, you shouldn't smurf your father's beard like that. There won't be anything left to smurf!" she cooed to the giggling baby. "And that WOULD be tragic" she added with a slight eye roll. Other smurfs chortled in agreement.

Ignoring her last comment, the proud papa unwraps the smaller, slimmer smurf from his blankets. This one was special. He and Hefty were brought by the stork as a pair. He was really quite quiet for being so small. He was often sick, but thankfully never anything serious. Although he was always a pale little smurfling. Nothing that his parents did could help that. Papa smurf set him gently on the mushroom pedestal and anxiously awaited his son's first word.

The slim child sat on the pedestal, wide eyed and smiling his special little half- smile he has. The moon's beams showered the youngster's significantly lighter blue skin in light, but the smurfling didn't even part his lips.

Papa and Ameliasette's hearts sank. If their baby smurfling couldn't say his first word now, how were they going to know what his future would be like? Worse, it could mean that the youngster may never be able to speak! Ameliasette looked at her mate, a concerned, bordering scared look on her face. Then the child on the pedestal began to mutter. Everysmurf silenced themselves and leaned in closer to hear his voice. "Deh—Deh—Deh—DREAMER."

The proud parents breathed a sigh of relief. However, the elder smurfs were not quite as relieved. "No smurf has ever had 'dreamer' for a first word, Alchemist." One of his peers said to the Papa Smurf. "Never in my time, nor my father's"

"At least he CAN speak. I KNEW this one was special. I don't care that his first word was unusual… What—whatever he learns to say later in life will be entirely up to him to choose." Papa replied, lifting his son from the mushroom pedestal, and holding him over his head. "It's so smurfy to hear your voice, Dreamy Smurf."

I awake to the sound of birds and chirring of cicadas outside of my window. Another mostly sleepless night led me to fantastic dreams again—_dreams of shoes with wheels, and thingamabobs that you can use to talk to other smurfs- even when you're far, far away! I have to write these all down before I forget!_ I think to myself, _and then I will go tell everyone all about them! _

I leap from my bed and bound to my desk, opening the drawer and gently removing my prized possession: My red- leather bound Dream Journal. I open to a blank page and as soon as I have my hot little hands on a pencil, I begin documenting every detail I can remember. I have to work fast; Greedy has breakfast on the table and I don't want to be late again! I finish up the final touches on a doodle of some sort of metal worm thing that can transmurf smurfs underground, and quickly shut the book and return it to its place. Noticing the time, I hasten to smurf a pair of clean pants and change out of my nightshirt. I'll brush my teeth when I get back. _Not like I'm gonna be kissing anyone_. I roll my eyes a little apathetically. One good thing about being thought of as just a dreamer without a cause is that nobody takes a shine to you, so therefore you don't have to smurf the extra effort to look pristine at the breakfast table. Figures.

I give my messy, dark colored hair a quick comb, and schlep on a white hat, not bothering to lock the door as I left my Mushroom house. I start running for the mess hall, hoping that somebody saved me at least one smurfberry pancake, or muffin, or something!

I'm in luck. They haven't even started yet. "Ah, Dreamy." An older sounding, more distinguished voice spoke, "how did you sleep last night?"

Papa smurf. Our father figure and caretaker. He always asks the same questions every morning, _'How did you sleep last night', 'have you seen Hefty this morning', 'can you help pick smurfberries today_' and finally ending with '_and Dreamy- Can you please Try to keep your head out of the clouds today? We need you to help.'_ After 200 years, he starts to sound like a broken record. "As well as an insomniac can, I suppose." I mumble a reply, rubbing the sleep more out of my eyes, which are ringed with dark circles from lack of sleep.

"Mm-hmm, I can see. Say, have you seen Hefty this morning?" Papa smurf asked, as if reading from some sort of mental script.

Suppressing a sigh, I reply calmly "I haven't seen him all day. I assume he's still on his morning jog."

"Ah, yes, that's good. Exercise is good for the mind and body!" he replied, stretching his old joints. "Oh Dreamy, I almost forgot. Would you mind helping with the smurfberry harvest today? The crops have been so plentiful this year we almost don't have enough smurfs to smurf the whole harvest!"

I bit my tongue in some kind of emotion I can't identify. "Sure thing, Papa Smurf." I reply through partially clenched teeth.

He didn't even seem to notice. He simply scratched his white beard some and spoke empty words of thanks. I turned to go smurf myself a seat, but he stops me. "Oh and Dreamy?"

I already know what he'll say next. I clench my fists ever so slightly and reply, "Yes, Papa Smurf?"

"Please try to keep your head out of the clouds today… We need your help or we won't be able to smurf all the smurfberry crops to the silo before the winter!" Papa said, concluding the script he'd mentally rehearsed.

I've heard it hundreds of times, and yet, for some reason, I always cringe a little at the last lines. Everyone said it to me_- get your head out of the clouds, Dreamy_. Even my own brother says that. I plaster a false grin on my face and reply, "I'll try, Papa Smurf."

He muttered some thanks and goodbyes and took his place at the head of the table. Well, I might as well get something to eat so I can get to smurfing those smurfberries. I take a seat next to my 'reliable' friends, Nat, Lazy, and Flier. Nat's bulbous straw hat covers up a little less than half his face as he speaks with his slightly scratchy and childish voice "Hiya, Dreamy! What'd you dream about?"

I feel my eyes light up a little more. "Oh, Smurfy, SMURFY things, Nat! I saw a worm thing that can carry smurfs place to place from underground, and- and- boxes that had music and voices inside, and-" I'm quickly cut off by Lazy waking from his sleep and speaking as if he'd been awake and alert the entire time.

"whaaa? A worm that carries smurfs places? That's resmurfulous, Dreamy! Even for you!" Lazy yawned, his drowsy voice and half-open eyes betraying his sleepiness.

His words stung a little. "Yeah, Dreamy. I mean, worms are cool n' all," Nat said, pushing his hat out of his face "but a big worm carrying smurfs to places underground? Get real, Dreamy. That's never gonna smurf in a million years!"

Nat's words stung too. So much for best friends. "Now, I wouldn't say that, Nat." Flier's voice chimed in.

I expected another bee sting of a remark. "I think the idea itself sounds absolutely smurfy." He said.

I turned my head and looked at him. He had a feather shaped birthmark under his left eye, only a shade or two darker than the rest of his skin, which was a deep cerulean. "The only way it could be smurfier is if it was like that flying machine you were talking about last month." He replied.

I blushed ever so slightly, hoping no smurf would take notice. _I can't believe he actually remembered..._ "Well, if you say so, Fly. C'mon, Lazy. Tailor wanted us to go smurf him some herbs so he can tan the leather to make everysmurf new work gloves." Nat concluded, sliding his significantly smaller smurfling rump off the picnic table and taking Lazy by the elbow.

Then I was left with Fly. I'm not sure why, but for some reason, it feels so—hard for me to be alone with him sometimes. I just feel so—hot in my cheeks whenever I'm alone with him… It's like how Hefty describes his being with Smurfette. But—we're two male smurfs- so why do I feel like my cheeks are on fire whenever he looks me in the eyes? I finally piped up, "Thanks for defending me there, Fly. You're a true friend." I paused for a moment to finish smurfing my plate, "Even if you don't mean it."

"What makes you think I don't mean it? I wouldn't say it in the first place if it wasn't true." He said, honestly in his voice. "I like listening to your dreams, Dreamy. The world needs more dreamers."

I couldn't help but blush a deep shade of purple. Feeling slightly embarrassed, and hoping he can't see, I gather my dishes quickly and stand. "Yes- well—thanks again, Fly. Your friendship means a lot to me— WHOOPS!"

I hardly noticed that he'd come around the table to help gather dishes and I just about ran right straight into him. He's a bit taller than I am. Older, I think, too. And he's got a wider chest than I do. Smurf, I almost feel dwarfed in comparison! Now I wish I'd brushed my teeth…"hehe, careful!" He says, his husky voice vibrating in his chest. "We already have ONE clumsy smurf."

I just laugh a little stupidly, feeling like Sassette, or something, and hope he doesn't notice how red my face is. "hehahe… uh—yeah… I'll be more careful, Fly" I stutter a little.

He helps me stack the dishes and carry them to the sink for some unlucky smurf to toil over. "I'll be in my shed working on a new plan. See ya later, Dreamer." He says leaving me at the sink.

"Uh- yeah—see ya" I reply.

I can't stop the little grin inside me. He's called me Dreamer for as long as I can remember. Maybe it's because it was my first word? Heh. I don't know. But I must admit, I think its kind of a mixed message. See, everyone else in the village calls me Dreamer too. Except they call me that when I mess something up. They call me Dreamer when I break something because I wasn't paying attention.

They call me Dreamer when they know something I tell them will never happen.

But Fly—he calls me that as a term of endearment, I think. Or at least I hope. Or wish.

I snap out of my thoughts and started walking to the smurfberry patches. Dearest Papa smurf wouldn't be very happy if he caught me with my head in the clouds.


	2. Chapter 2 Smurfberries

I walk leisurely towards the smurfberry patch that winds next to Farmer's fields and Handy's workshop. Just my luck, Handy's outside working on some new smurfy invention! iMaybe now I can smurf him one of my ideas!/i I think optimistically,i he has to like at least one of my ideas!/i

I walk closer to where Handy is working on some thingamabob of some sort. Oh, wait- that's Farmer's tractor. "Hi Handy!" I greet him, actually somewhat excited. Like it or not, Handy does use some of my ideas sometimes. Maybe today would be one of those days!

The mechanic in white overalls looked over his shoulder and gave a slight eye roll. "Oh, it's just you Dreamy." He said returning to his work.

I ignore his utter disdain and keep talking "I had the smurfiest dream last night Handy! There was an invention that-"As usual, I was cut off.

"mmhmm, that's just smurfy, Dreamy. Hey, Farmer! Could you smurf over here a minute and gimmie a hand?" Handy called towards the fields.

"Sho nuff! Be riot ova!" The heavy southern accent from Farmer smurf calls back.

I walk away to leave Handy to make repairs to that stupid tractor. Why doesn't he ever listen to me! Why doesn't ANYONE here listen to me! What's the point of me staying in this village if I'm nothing but a face in the crowd, not making any difference to anyone? Really. why the smurf haven't I left earlier….

Then it occurs to me. iRight,/i I think, iHefty/i. As much as he wishes otherwise, he's still my brother. Twin, actually. He keeps me anchored here. I could never leave the village because I love my brother and I could never hurt him. That's pretty much it. Everyone else here can go to SMURF for all I care. I wince at my own thoughts. No. that's not it…. Fly. I don't want to leave because…. Well smurf, I don't KNOW why! I stop walking towards the fields and clench my fists in- anger, resentment, frustration? Whatever the driving emotion, I clench my fists hard enough that I can feel my fingernails dig into my palms. I don't understand how all these smurfs can be so happy with their lives exactly as it is, exactly where they are. I want to get out of here. I want to smurf to faraway lands, see faraway sights, taste faraway foods… But- every time I smurf my cookies and start out on a new journey… Whatever it is that's keeping me here brings me back.

I clench my fists a bit harder and fight the watering in my eyes. I scan the surrounding area for something that I can take out my frustration on. Not finding anything "injury proof", I take a wild swing at the peeling bark on a nearby tree. Frustrated, I kick the tree a few times too. "Dreamy…?" I hear a voice with a mild southern twang.

I turn my head slightly and see none other than Clumsy smurf. Oversized trousers, hat in eyes like always. "Did tha' tree do somethin' mean? Whai're you cryin'?" He asks, cocking his head naively to an angle.

Any other day, maybe, but at this moment in time, at this place I had no patience for Clumsy and his dense advice. "Leave me alone, Clumsy. I just wanna let out some frustration right now!" I say, finally breaking the piece of bark off the tree.

Clumsy giggled a little. "Gawsh! Now yo' jus liak Hefteh! It mus be a twin thing!" he said sitting on the empty bucket he was holding.

I stopped abusing the tree for a moment… He was right. I'm acting just like my hothead brother. And on top of it, I think my knuckles are bleeding. Yep. Sure are. I sigh a little. "I'll be back to help in a little while, Clumsy. I'm gonna go see if Papa smurf has an extra bandage…"

Clumsy stood up and giggled a little. "Okai!" he said, before he proceeds to fall over his own feet. "Oops! Hyu-hyu…"

I couldn't help but crack a smile. Some things never change. Clumsy will always be Clumsy. I won't be surprised to see him tripping over his own beard when he's Grandpa's age. Of course, he'd have a lot more to hurt at that age…. So maybe that's not a good thing.

"Hey." A familiar voice breathes on my neck, making me jump nearly a whole two apples high.

"Oh, it's just you, Fly. Don't do that! You scared me!" I turned around and swatted him on the shoulder. He wore a smug expression at first, but as soon as he saw my bloody knuckles, his expression made almost a complete 180.

"Smurf, Dreamer!" He says, taking my hand, examining the scraped up knuckles. "Who did you get into a fight with?"

"Big Douglass." I replied, trying to be clever, but apparently not doing well. "Smurfer stood over 60 apples high! I'm lucky I escaped with my life."

"Why'd you go and punch a tree?"

Darn. Looks like he wasn't going for the playful banter. He was dead serious, judging by the look on his face. "I- I was feeling frustrated…." I confessed. "Fly- why do you stay here? You HAVE a flying machine, you could fly away from this village whenever you want."

"Because I've found smurfs that I simply can't live without here. And I get the feeling he can't live without me either. "He explained.

I can't help but blush a little. "The real question is why do you want to leave so bad, Dreamy?" Fly asked, sounding concerned.

I look down at the ground. "It's nothing. Just drop it."

Fly is a VERY persistent smurf. Both with his friends and his dreams. "Dreamy, it's been dropped, it just bounced back up again. Tell me what's wrong."

I couldn't help but notice the genuine concern in his eyes. With a big, unsmurfy lump in my throat, I shook my head. "Please?" he asked, still holding my wounded hands.

I swallowed tears and shook my head. "There's nothing to tell."

Who'm I smurfing? Of COURSE there's something to tell. But how in the name of smurf would I be able to tell my best friend that I hate it here, and I wish I could go anywhere far away….

What happens next surprises me. Fly draws me in closer, letting go of my wounded hand and wrapping his arms around me in a smurfy embrace. He has his hand on the back of my head, and he's ever so gently stroking the back of my head. Mixed feelings bubble and toil inside of me. I'm not sure whether to feel happy and relieved, or even slightly scared. Whatever emotions are at war inside of me, they bubble out in tears. "I didn't think you were ok." Fly whispers softly. The feeling of his chest vibrating so close to mine sends chills down my back. My tail waggles involuntarily at the feeling, like an agitated cat, just without the agitation.

Fly adjusts himself so that he's looking right straight into my eyes.i My God, he has smurfy eyes!/i They're so different from all the other smurfs'. His are a smoky slate gray, with speckles of light blue. Focused, deliberate, and truly lovely. I can't help but blush and waggle my tail. "If you're not going to tell me why you're so smurf-bent on leaving the village, " He said ever so softly, "Then at least let me wrap your knuckles. Papa smurf won't be as- eh- compromising as I am."

I force myself to break his gaze, and looked away, realizing that he was right. Everything us smurfs learned about persistence, we learned from Papa smurf! I wasn't entirely sure what to say, so I simply nodded, and broke the embrace. Now holding my injured hand again, he led me into his humble abode. I really like Fly's house… it's got a certain feel to it that makes it feel like- Davinci's lab, or the workplace of some great inventor specializing in flight. He has hundreds of failed inventions on shelves, on desks, hanging from hooks and nails, and some simply thrown in the corner, forgotten, but still holding a place in the world. It's a disheveled little mushroom house, and it smells like parchment and spilled India ink. But it's like a home away from home to me, and I always feel safe in his presence. I take my normal seat next to the hearth and fiddle with some smurfy little contraption, and wait as Fly rummages for a first-aid kit.

Not long after, Fly returns with a metal box. He takes a seat next to me, and takes my hands, swabbing them gently with alcohol swabs. Between the fact that the alcohol stings the open wounds, it's bloody COLD. I scooch a little closer to the fire's warmth. Fly mirrors me, still dismurfing the wounds on my knuckles. I keep moving closer to him, to let him get a better grip on the loose bark in the wounds. Before I know it, he's sitting right next to me, his hips touching mine. The light blush I had not long ago returns, as he finishes wrapping the wounds. "There. That ought to heal faster now." He said, his husky voice reduced to almost a whisper.

I nodded. "Mm-hmm… Ehm-! I'd better be getting back to picking smurfberries. Can't leave Clumsy alone for very long, huh?" I stood, half skittering across the hall, towards the door.

"Wait." His deep voice spoke. I did. He came and put his arms around me again. I blushed some more, and my tail waggled involuntarily. "I know something's not right with you, Dreamer." He whispered huskily in my ear, sending chills down my spine. "But I'm not going to force it out of you. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

I could only nod. "Good… don't go fighting anymore trees now, you hear me Dreamer?"

I cracked a small smile and hugged him tight. "hehe… I- I wont."

"Good." He responded, rubbing his cold nose on my forehead like how a kitten nuzzles its little brother. "I-I love you, Dreamy. And- I hate seeing you in so much pain…"

How could I be so transparent? Am I really so easy to read? "I- I love you too, Fly. You're the smurfiest friend a smurf could ever have." I replied, part of me wishing that I could tell him everything.

"I'm glad to hear it, Dreamer." He says, breaking the embrace. "See you later."

"Y-yeah. See ya." I reply, almost stumbling over my words.

I excuse myself from his humble home, and keep walking to the smurfberry patch. There's probably so much red in my face I hardly even look like a smurf anymore, but I think I'm actually okay with that. Whether he knows it or not, Fly makes me feel really… well, really smurfy. Maybe he's the real reason I can't leave here. Not just because I love my brother.

iAnd speaking of the devil/i, I roll my eyes a little, ihere comes the muscelhead now/i. Just as I enter the forest, I see him ahead on the path, coming home from a long jog. He's very in shape, and takes great pride in his large stature and developed muscles. Smurf, everyone admires him too. Then they see me and ask how on smurf we could be related, let alone fraternal twins. "Hiya, Dreamy!" He says, slowing his jogging pace to a slow walk, so he could talk.

"Hey Hefty." I reply, hoping that the red in my face had dissipated.

"Out to go pick smurfberries again?"

"Yeah. Papa smurf said they needed help with the harvest."

"Oh, then I'll come with." He changed his direction and walked with me towards the smurfberry patches. "Have any good dreams lately?"

Nothing you'll wanna hear. "Yeah, a couple." I lie, "Nothing Handy jumps at."

Hefty nudged me playfully. "Aw, don't get down. You know him, he just doesn't like admitting that other smurfs have ideas that are better than his."

I smile a little. "Yeah, I guess." I reply. "Hey Hef?"

He looks at me before grunting a little imm-hmm/i noise. "What is love like?" I ask, sounding a bit naive, even to myself.

Hefty cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy. "'What is love like?' That's an interesting question. Where'd that come from?"

"Just curious." I reply.

He thinks for a minute, scratching the back of his head. "Umm…. Well… Being in love is when you feel like there's Jokey's surprise boxes in your chest whenever you see her." He explains, "It's like having a hot glass of Greedy's special sassafras and sarsaparilla cider on the most unsmurfiest night in winter. You feel like you get drunk just from the way she smells. You feel like the entire world lights up when she touches you…It's like- you just feel like you don't want to leave her, not even for a little while. It's like feeling- generally, a little smurfier in life. You see things that you maybe couldn't- or wouldn't- before, and the world just looks- better, I guess. That answer your question, bro?"

I nod a little, looking towards the ground. "But Hefty?" I say, i"What if it's not a 'she'?" /i

He stops walking and looks at me quizzically. "Wh-what?" he asks, sounding as confused as he looks.

I knew I shouldn'tve said anything else. He's not going to understand… Smurf, who will! "What if you have all those feelings you just described," I explained, not even realizing what I was saying, "but it's for another smurf?"

I waited for his explosion. I wait for Mount Hefty to just erupt and blow his top. But he doesn't. All he does is stand there, looking a bit dazed. "I- ehm- I don't know, Dreamy." He admits, "I've never met a smurf that loves another smurf. Everysmurf I know is in love with Smurfette. But I suppose it would smurf the same way…"

"I- I think I'm in love with my best friend, Hefty." I say, stumbling over my words. "w- What do I do?"

"uh- golly, Dreamy, I don't know…" Hefty mumbled. "Maybe Papa smurf would know."

I look at the ground. "But what if he's disappointed in me…" I say, holding back tears, "I mean, ia smurf with another smurf/i, rather than a ismurf and a smurfette/i? That might be taboo for them…"

He puts his meaty hand on my shoulder. "I'll go with you. No way I'm gonna let my baby brother do this alone." He said, nudging me again playfully.

I roll my eyes slightly. We have this argument all the time… "Y'know, just because the stork gave you to Papa smurf first doesn't make me your baby brother." I say, nudging him back.

"Yeah, it does! Face it, Dreamy. You're my baby bro."

"Ok, I'll admit to being the younger one, but not the baby brother! C'mon, we're TWINS for smurf sake! I'm 210. and you're 210 and 2 and a half minutes. How does that make me the baby?"

"Well for one thing, the fact that you always start this argument." He raised his eyebrow with a smug look on his face.

I realized what he was doing. He always knows how to smurf my buttons! "Aw, smurf off, Hef. I'm not getting into that with you now!" I say, pushing him again. "Hey, Hefty?"

I'm certain he cringed, expecting another weird question. "Yeah, Dreamy?"

"Thanks for not smurfin' out." I say, giving him a walking side-hug. "I love you, bro."

"Yeah, no problem" He replys, returning the side-hug, "I love you too, Dreamy. You loving another smurf will never change that. Don't you EVER forget that."

"I won't Hefty. I swear on it." I reply.

"Good." He says. "Now c'mon. Let's get the crops in the silo so we can go talk to Papa smurf."

"It really is ok if you don't wanna come, you know."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. You're my brother, and brothers are sposed to always be there for each other."

_You truly are a good brother, Hefty Smurf. _


	3. Chapter 3 What is Love?

Hefty and I picked smurfberries for a few hours. By the time we were done, our fingertips were stained with smurfberry juice. "Gawsh, Dreamy! Why were you punchin' that tree earlier?" Clumsy asked unwittingly.

"You were punching a tree?" Hefty raised an eyebrow at me. "Since when are you the fighter?"

"Since I was frustrated and not wantin' to talk about it, thank you." I say sarcastically.

"Hey, hey! Don't smurf MY head off!" Hefty said putting up his hands in a defensive way. "I just wanna know for sure that I wouldn't get surfed in a fisticuff with ya."

I roll my eyes, smiling a little. "No, Hefty, your fisticuff title's safe. For NOW…" I said, laughing a little.

"Oh, wait a second, was that a CHALLENGE I just heard?" Hefty gave me a light punch on the shoulder.

I returned the punch, but tried to protect the bucket of smurfberries in my other hand. "Nooo, that wasn't a challenge. THIS would be a challenge!" I swat at his arm, preparing to defend myself.

"OH, so that's how is, huh?" He replys.

He takes me around the neck and practically presses my face in his smelly armpit. I already know what's going to happen next. "NOOGIEEEE!" He yells, driving his knuckles into my skull.

"AAHH! Stoppit! Stoppit! I smurf! UNCLE! UNCLE!" I yell, my voice muffled.

He lets me go, giving me another light knuckle bump on the shoulder. "Heh. Y'know, if y' came out running with me more often you wouldn't yell 'uncle' so often"

I roll my eyes. Not him and his health kick again. He's always trying to get me to work out with him. Sorry, bro, but I prefer dreaming up new ideas instead of getting hot, sweaty and tired. Besides, I can never keep it up. "Aw, Hef. You know me. You have your exercise, I have my dreams." I say.

"Well gawsh, Dreamy. No'un listens to your dreams though- so why do ya keep dreamin' 'em?" Clumsy asked, not meaning any offense by it.

I know he doesn't understand. For smurfs sake, its easy to see he has some kind of disability, he really doesn't know what he says hurts sometimes. But it still feels like he's rubbing salt in an open wound. "Because I don't care that they don't listen to me," I lied, "Dreaming makes me happy. That's what's important to me. I don't care anymore what other smurfs say."

Well strike i'what other smurfs say'/i. Honestly, I just don't care anymore. I pick up my walking speed a little and hurry back to the village. "Whoa! Hey! I know you're eager to talk to Papa smurf, but take it easy." Hefty says, catching up to me.

My stomach knots up. "Well- ehm- Hefty, I was thinking… It might not be such a smurfy idea to talk to him today." I speak, rather sheepishly. "It might be best to wait until tomorrow, when we have a better idea of what to say…"

"Yeah," Hefty agreed, "He seemed agitated earlier. We shouldn't talk to him til we know exactly what we should say."

As soon as we get back to the village I escape and go back to my home. I went in and locked the door. I'm not entirely sure why though. Nobody cares enough to come over to my house. I rarely get visitors. I lean against the door, and slowly slide to the floor, holding my head in my hands. I almost can't help but cry.

I dodged visiting Papa smurf for today. But what about tomorrow? How in the name of smurf am I supposed to tell my own Papa that I think I may be in love with my best friend! He'll dismurf me! Or even throw me out of the village! I'm scared. I'm really truly scared!

A loud knock at the door jars me from my thoughts. iI wonder who that could be?/i I think. I stand and unlock the door, wiping my eyes so I don't look like a terrible wreck. Standing in my doorway is Flying Smurf. "Oh! Ehhm- Hi, Fly. Come on in. What brings you here?"

"Just thought I'd come and check on you," he responds, leaning on the closed door "you weren't looking very good earlier." He catches a glimpse of my reddish eyes. "Have you been- crying?"

"Ehmm! No! No! I'm fine! I just- eh- I- eh-"I try and explain myself.

He looks me dead in the eyes. My words seem to melt into mush. Who am I kidding? I can't lie to him… "Well… Okay. Yeah, I was crying."

"What? Why?" He asks, tilting his head a bit.

I look at the ground. Fly moves closer to me, gently putting his hand on my chin and tilting my head so that I was looking directly into his mesmerizing slate colored eyes. "You know you can tell me anything. Please talk to me, Dreamy."

I can't help but let tears bubble from my eyes. "I….. I can't…"

"Please. I can't smurf it if I don't know what's broken."

I pause for a moment. It's now or never. "Fly, do believe some love might be wrong? Like- love between two smurfs?" I ask, avoiding eye contact, and feeling redder in the cheeks with every passing second.

He tilts his head slightly. "I don't believe in any love being wrong. I believe that true love transcends all odds, overcomes all obstacles and smurfs all knowledge and possibilities." He replys, coming so close to my face that his forehead nearly touches mine. I feel my tail twitch and waggle involuntarily and my face feels like it's on fire. "Does that answer your question?"

"Uh-uh-uh huh" I stutter, "boy. Poet should take a lesson from ya."

"Thanks." He replys, looking away a little, pink dotting his cheeks. Wait- pink in his cheeks? "Now that I've answered your question, answer mine. Why were you crying?"

I move away again, crossing my arms awkwardly and looking at the ground. "I-uh- I think I'm in love…"I stutter, stumbling over my words. "But not with Smurfette. I- I think I'm in love with another smurf…."

He looks a bit surprised, but not nearly as much as I thought he'd be. "A-and I wanna tell him, but- I'm scared. Terrified, even! He's a friend of mine, and-and I don't wanna smurf that friendship… Not for the world…"

I pause again, trying to think of what to say. "I- I think I LOVE you, Fly…"

Fly almost seems taken aback. His cheeks are flushed red. Oh smurf. Why isn't he saying anything…? "F-Fly…" I say, my voice cracking a little. "P-please say something…"

"W-well," He finally speaks, "I- I think I love you too, Dreamy."

He steps closer to me, wiping away my tears and tilting my head towards him. "I have for a long time now. But…" He seems to forget what to say.

I feel as though something powerful has overcome me. My cheeks feel like they're on fire. My heart feels like it's about to beat right out of my chest. My hands wrap around his back, up to his smurfy dark hair. He's so close to me his nose touches mine softly. His focused slate colored eyes are locked in my hazel-y eyes. "I wish this moment would never end." I whisper softly.

"I think I can think of a smurfier moment." He says, tilting his head slightly.

"Yeah?" I reply, tilting my head too, "What moment would that be?"

"This."

His smooth, smurfy lips touch mine, making the entire world disappear, making my tail waggle like crazy, and my heart practically skip a beat. If I could, I would trade anything in the entire world to make this simple moment last forever. Forget the smurf village. Forget Hefty, forget Nat and Lazy, forget every smurf in the entire smurfin' village.

The only thing that matters is what happens right here, and right now.

I wouldn't smurf it for the world.


	4. Chapter 4 What do we do?

The first rays of the sun's morning light enter my room, lighting up the entire room. Sleepily, I open my tired eyes, and let them wander to the figure that joined me in bed last night. My best friend turned- well, turned something- Fly. He was to my right, turned over on his left, letting his lovely feather birthmark peek out from under the covers. I sit up slightly in my bed, careful not to wake him. He's so beautiful when he sleeps… his eyes twitch, his arms are in almost a fetal position, and I can feel his tail twitch and waggle occasionally. I smile, running my fingers through his hair. I move my forehead close to his, and kiss the sweet little birthmark that separates him from the rest of the pack. I notice how much darker his skin is compared to mine. It's as if we smurfed from two different planets. I kiss the birthmark again, lightly, and I feel a change in his movement. _Oops_, I think, _now I've woken him up_.

Grunting and moaning quietly, he rolls over in the quilts, turning himself towards me. "Morning, darling." He says groggily, a smile across his tired face.

"Good morning." I reply, stroking his hair a little. "Seems you slept well."

"Mmhmm. I did, actually." He said, enjoying my hand on his forehead. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Little," I say, truthfully, "Seems the cure to insomnia is sleeping in bed with an absosmurfly amazing smurf."

"Then I guess If I ever had it, It's long gone now" he replys, sitting up with me and kissing me lightly on the forehead. I let myself cuddle up to him, putting his arm around my shoulder. Thoughts run through my head, trying to force themselves out my mouth. But I don't want to bore him with all my dreams. "So, what did you dream about last night, Dreamer?" he asks me.

I widen my eyes a little, and then pour out all of the dreams I had the night before in the short hours I was asleep. He didn't interrupt me once, he never brushed me off, and he didn't even roll his eyes once. He sat there, and he listened to every dream and anecdote crammed into my little blue head from the night before. "…and a device that lets smurfs do almost all of their work and play games, and even connect to other smurfs, and-oh, gosh, I'm boring you, aren't I?" I cut myself off.

"No." he said adjusting himself and squeezing me lightly for a moment, "I love listening to your dreams. They give me the inspiration to work on my flying machines."

I smile and blush a little. Nobody ever listens to my dreams, except for Fly. And he's the only smurfy reason to dream anymore. Everyone in the village- _Smurf. The village. How will they react when they find out that Fly spent the night?_ We didn't even actually do anything, but how am I supposed to explain his presence in my house? "Hey, Fly?" I ask as he tilts his head towards me. "What do we do now? Where do we go from here? How on earth are we doing to tell the other smurfs?"

He looks at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. "I'm not sure, Dreamy. I'm not really sure of anything." He admits, warming my arm with his palms. "I do know that I love you with all my smurfy heart, and nothing anyone says or does to me will ever change it. But I also know we have to tell Papa smurf."

My heart sinks into my chest. "What if he's mad with us, or throws us out of the village, or-"I ask, not feeling sure of anything at the very moment.

Fly cuts me off with a quiet _shh_. "If that happens, then we'll pack our cookies and smurf out of the village. We'll start our own life. Make new friends. Friends that listen to our ideas." He comforts me.

"I- I guess you're right…" I say, feeling a little better.

"Good... Now, how about since we are a couple now," He says turning himself so that he looks right into my eyes. "After breakfast we go take a nice long walk in the forest, just you and me?"

"Hehe. I think I'd really like that."

"Good. Now, lets go get some grub before Greedy eats everything!" he says, releasing my from his arms, and sliding off of the bed. "And if anyone asks- you had a bad dream, asked me over."

"Hehe, got it" I say, combing my hair and going to go brush my teeth.

The two of us walk to Greedy's Mess Hall, humming a little smurfy tune I heard in one of my dreams. "What's that song you're singing? I've never heard anything like it." He asks me.

"Oh! It's just some song I heard in one of my dreams." I admit, feeling a bit embarrassed. I'm no Harmony smurf, but I can't say I have a very good singing voice either.

"You dream about music too?"

"Yeah. But I have an awful singing voice so I never really talk about those dreams. I just write all of them down in my dream journals."

"But how do you remember how they sound like?"

"I have a good memory when it comes to my dreams. But once I wake up, I write every single little detail- every note, every screw, every single painstakingly small detail- down in my dream journal. That helps me remember stuff when I read through them."

"Wow," Fly said, shaking his head and looking up towards the sky, "That's really impressive, Dreamy."

I shrug my shoulder a little. "Papa smurf taught me it. 'Write everything down so you don't leave out a single detail.' I do that with almost everything."

"Still," he responds, scratching his head a little. "That's really cool that you can remember all your dreams, Dreamy. If I could remember half the stuff I smurf up in my dreams, I wouldn't crash so much with my flying machines," he laughs dryly.

"Goodness! Don't remind me." I shudder.

I hate how he's always putting his life on the line with those deathtraps he calls progress. Ever since we were smurflings, I've been scared for him. Yes, he's following his dreams to fly, but at what cost? He's dislocated almost every joint in his body, knocked himself unconscious multiple times, and almost died twice now. But of course, Fly is a persistent fellow, and as soon as he's recovered from one adventure, he's in his workshop with Handy trying to smurf up something new. This cycle has been a constant thing for as long as he and I have been friends. He knows how much I worry. But he always shrugs it off and keeps at it.

We arrive at the Mess Hall, and let ourselves in. The smurfs had already started breakfast and the hubbub from 100 voices at once made it so nobody could hear what the other was saying. "Ah, Dreamy! Fly! Good morning." Papa smurf's voice nearly makes me jump right out of my skin. "You two are in late."

I turn to face him, his eyebrow arched in almost a confused manner. "Awful sleep last night. Ended up oversleeping today." I reply.

"Ah, I see. You too, Fly?" he asks Fly.

Fly nods his head. "Dreamy had a bad dream last night and he asked me to come over. I stayed up with him, and we both overslept." He explains.

Papa smurf seems convinced. "I see. You are a very smurfy friend, Flier."

"I like to think so, Papa Smurf." Fly replys, leaving to go find a place next to Lazy and Nat.

"I don't suppose you've seen Hefty today either?" he asks, jumping back onto his broken record.

My heart sinks. At least I broke away from the script for a few ad-libs. "No. I assume he's still out on his morning run." I say, wishing I could be a little rude and roll my eyes.

"Ah, yes. He must get a very early breakfast to be such an athlete on such a diet."

"Yeah." I say, wishing the conversation could just be over so I could find my place.

"I believe we've harvested all this year's smurfberries and got them into the silo before first frost." He says, scratching his white beard. "Thank you for all your help yesterday, Dreamy."

I shrugged my shoulders. "It was nothing. Glad I could help." I half-lied through my teeth.

Papa smurf mumbled some empty words of praise under his breath. "After breakfast maybe do you think you could help Farmer get the fall crops in as well? He says he needs all the help he can smurf."

Just goes to show you: be nice and do what you're told, get more work thrust upon you. "Sure thing, Papa smurf." I say through gritted teeth

He doesn't even notice my irritation. I start to walk away, before he continues speaking. "Oh, and Dreamy? -"

I stop, clenching my fist slightly. I listen to his words in my head before they even leave his mouth. _please try and keep your head out of the clouds today, Dreamy. We need your help, or else we might not have enough food to get us through the winter_

"I'll try, Papa Smurf. " I reply dryly, walking to the seat Nat saved for me.

"Hiya Dreamy! What kind of dreams did you have last night?" Nat's scratchy childish voice sounds off as soon as I take my place in front of him, next to Lazy and diagonal to Fly.

I hesitate for a minute, poking my strawberry pancakes with my fork feeling a bit agitated. _I had absolutely smurfy dreams last night Nat! All sorts of new inventions, the most interesting people to see, the greatest music to listen to! It was fantastic!_ "I didn't have any dreams last night." I say plainly.

Lazy jars himself awake and speaks as though he's been listening the whole time. "Whaaa? Dreamy didn't have any dreams?" he asks, sleep hanging heavily in his voice.

I shrug my shoulder in reply. "Gosh, Dreamy! Are you alright? You've ALWAYS had dreams! You're not sick or anything, right?" Nat asks, his eyes widening as he leans forward and moves his oversized hat out of his face.

Fly is the only one who has stayed silent. He has a light look of confusion that just silently screamed '_What're you talking about? Of course you dreamed last night. Why would you lie about that?_' "No Nat, I'm just fine." I half-lied, "Every once and awhile I just don't have any dreams. It smurfs to the best of us."

"Ok," the smurfling says, seemingly believing my fib, "But if it keeps happening, maybe we should go talk to Papa Smurf, okay?"

I clench my teeth. _What, as soon as I clam up about my dreams you finally start wanting to hear them?_ I mentally ask_. Nice, guys. Real nice_. "Yeah, sure. I will." I lie through my teeth.

Wanting to break away from the table, I stand with my half- eaten pancake and gather my dishes. "Full already?" Fly asks, that same almost suspicious look on his face.

"Yeah. I- eh- I ate a lot at dinner last night. Just not very hungry this morning." I say, excusing myself.

I hate lying. I really do. But I'm not going to tell them the real reason I've lost my appetite, just for the sake of keeping whatever friendship I have with these three.

I rush my breakfast dishes to the tub up front, ditching them and letting some unlucky smurf to take care of them. "Hey" I feel a voice against my neck.

I jump a bit, making an involuntary little _EEP_ noise. I turn around to see a smug looking Hefty smurf laughing at my expense. "SMURFIT, Hefty!" I yell swatting him. "I HATE it when you do that!"

"Hahahaha you shoulda smurfed the look on your face!" He stood there laughing at me.

Any other day I would be laughing along with him, but today I'm just not in the mood to deal with this. "ha-ha. That's so funny I think I just smurfed my pants." I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Aww, Dreamy, did you not get any sleep? Are you a grouchy smuuuurf?" he says nudging me playfully, trying to make me smile. I don't give him the satisfaction.

"I hate 'Smuuuurf'!" Grouchy complains from behind the dishes tub.

"I'm with him. Knock it off, Hefty, I'm not in the mood." I grumble.

"Aw, Dreamyyyy! It's such a smurfy day out! Smiiileee!" he says, almost singing.

"Cut it out, Hefty." I mumble.

Then he puts his hands on the corners of my mouth and tries to smurf me a smile. "C'mon, Dreamy! Smiiiiilllleee!" He plays around, trying to make me smile.

Just about there I lost it. I smacked his hands away and turned to him "Hefty, what the SMURF is your PROBLEM! Cant you just acknowledge the fact I DON'T WANNA DEAL WITH ANYONE RIGHT NOW?" I snap at him, just a bit too loud.

He has a look on his face bordering shock and heartbreak. All the previous hubbub from before is dead silent, with the exception of a few discerning mutters and whisperings between Papa Smurf and his two apprentices- Brainy and Alchemist Smurfs. Even from all the way at the front of the Mess hall, I can see the looks of concern on his face as well as Nat, Lazy, and Fly's. I realize I was out of line yelling at Hefty like that. "I- I'm sorry Hefty. I- I didn't sleep very well…" I apologize "I'm gonna go- smurf a nap. Then I'll go help Farmer."

I duck my head and walk quickly down the hall. To the back door, all eyes on me. As fast as my little blue legs can carry me, I run back to my house. I lock the door behind me, and I hold my head in my hands, tears dribbling down my face pathetically. I hear a knock at my door. "GO AWAY." I respond.

"Dreamy? It's me. Open the door." I hear Papa smurf's concerned voice.

"I don't want to talk, Papa smurf." I reply.

"Dreamy, open this door!" he says, continuing to knock on the door.

I knew there was no compromising with him now. I stand and unlock the door. Papa smurf is standing in the doorway. "Do you want to talk about what happened in the Mess Hall, my little smurf?" He asks, waiting in the doorway.

_No, but you're not going to smurf no for an answer_. "There's nothing to talk about, Papa." I mumble, inviting him in, "I didn't get enough sleep last night, and Hefty was bugging me. I lost my patience, and I came back here to smurf a nap."

"If that's it, then why were you crying?" Papa smurf asks, obvious concern in his voice. "Something has been bothering you, Dreamy. Nat and Lazy have both noticed it, Hefty has noticed it, I've noticed it- we're concerned about you, Dreamy."

"There's nothing bothering me, Papa smurf," I lie, avoiding his loving eyes and holding back my tears. 

"Dreamy. Look at your Papa." He speaks, sounding even more anxious and troubled.

I force myself to look in his gentle eyes. "Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that everything is smurfy with you, my little smurf?" he asks, his voice low.

I take a deep breath and look at him straight in the face. "I. Am. Fine. There is nothing wrong, Papa Smurf." It takes all my determination to keep my voice even and my eyes from betraying my true feelings and thoughts.

Papa smurf breathes a sigh, and wraps me in a warm, protective, fatherly embrace, one of his hands gently stroking my hair. "I can tell you're lying, you know." He says, his voice shaky.

My heart sinks into my stomach_. Papa smurf…. I never wanted to hurt you…_ "But I suppose if you don't want to talk, you won't." he says, sounding defeated.

Now it feels like my heart's sunk past my liver. (Or gallbladder. Or whatever the smurf's lower than the stomach, I dunno, I'm not a doctor.) I've never felt so guilty in my life. I wanted to open up, tell him absolutely everything. _But- how am I supposed to tell my own papa that I hate it here?… that I'm smurfed and tired of being silenced and ostracized for being a dreamer? _"I- erm- I have to go check on Brainy and Alchemist's progress on the potion I asked them to smurf for me." Papa smurf said, breaking the hug, and looking at me with his concerned eyes. "All I want to do is help you, Dreamy. But I can't fix something if I don't know what's broken. You can talk to me about anything, you know."

"Yeah… I- I know, Papa Smurf…" I reply, looking away. I feel like I can't even look him in the eyes right now. "Thanks for your concern, but I really am okay."

"Yes, well- forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced." He says, bordering on the sarcastic side. "Please take your nap and hurry out to the fields. Farmer needs help with the crops."

"Yeah. Sure thing, Papa smurf." I reply. Oh, look. Back to the script.

"And Dreamy?" Papa smurf says, turning his head before leaving my house. "Please do try to keep your head out of the clouds."

"I'll try Papa smurf…" I respond, a knot tightening in my stomach.

"Good. See you later, Dreamy." He says, walking outside and shutting the door behind him.

I can't help but cry right here.


	5. Chapter 5 We're Not Alone

5 We're Not Alone

I wipe away my tears and try and pull myself together. If I had another visitor, I'd probably have to betray my- There's a loud knock on the door behind me. Huh. I should've been named Psychic smurf. "Dreamy? It's me. Please come out?" I hear the voice of Fly.

"I don't wanna, Fly." I reply.

"Ok, then I'm coming in." I heard him yell.

The open window to my left provided the perfect entry for the stubborn smurf. Even with tears rolling down my face I couldn't help but laugh. "What, were you smurfed in a barn?" I laugh, still trying to wipe away my tears.

"Hahaha, well a smurf's gotta do what a smurf's gotta do" He replys. "Hey… Baby…" He says, seeing my tears and sitting next to me. "What's the matter? Why'd you lie to Nat n' Lazy earlier?"

He wraps me in his arms and lets me cry on his chest. "I- I'm done…" I say between jagged breaths.

"Done with what, love?" he asks.

"I'm done with putting my dreams out there for my so called friends and family to walk all over. I'm DONE, Fly…" I sob, finally opening up to someone. "I've been silenced and shunned my whole life… Even my own brother shrugs me off. Smurf, even Papa!" Fly adjusts the two of us so now I am sitting on his lap, still crying on his chest.

"Every single day it's the same thing. 'Dreamy, get your head out of the clouds', or 'Dreamy, try and keep your head out of the clouds today, we need your help.' After 200 years, you start sounding like a broken record, Fly. I- I HATE it… I hate it here… I hate having my dreams taken for granted every day... I wish I could go far, far away from this whole smurfin' village!" I feel my voice catch in my throat as I draw more jagged breaths.

"I- I think I would've left here a long time ago if it wasn't for Hefty… Dream smurfer or not he's still my brother… He was the only reason I even had to live before I found you…"I murmur, still weeping, "Lately I've been feeling like I've wanted to just- end everything. Just- find a way to leave this smurfin' village forever, and never be able to come back."

I feel Fly's strong, muscular chest shake as he breathes in. I look at his face and see tears in his eyes. "P-please don't cry for me, Fly," I say weakly, "The village would be a better place if I was gone."

He shakes his head violently, tears running down his face. "NO… It WOULDN'T, Dreamy…." He sobs, "This place would feel like HELL if you died. No, it WOULD be Hell! Smurfit, Dreamy… If you committed suicide, just imagine how all of us would feel… Nat, Lazy- They're both freaked out right now cause they can tell you're depressed. They won't say it until they get really worried, but they really ARE concerned. And they really DO admire your dreams, they just have a- err- funny way of showing it." He pauses to wipe his face, "Smurf, Dreamy. And what about Hefty? How do you think he'd take losing his brother? You know him, he'd like- spiral into some kind of depression, or something… Or Papa? How do you think he'd cope knowing that his own son didn't wanna live anymore because of his friends…?"

He wipes his eyes again, letting me soak in what he's said. "A-and what about me?... I- I love you, Y- you're my best friend… I- I couldn't-" his sobbing takes over as he holds me tight and almost rocks a little.

I've never seen him cry so much. Not even the day his workshop caught on fire and he lost all of his machines, or when Mama smurf died… I never realized how much he cared… I know he loves me, but… I had no idea that he cared so much… "I- I never wanna lose you like that, Dreamy…" he whispers, "I love you… I love you like I've never loved anysmurf…. P-please… please…" his voice fades into more tears and jagged breaths.

"F-Fly…." I say weakly. "I- I love you too, Fly… And I always will…"

I angle his head so that he and I meet eye to eye. "I swear on us," I say, trying to wipe away some of his tears, "I will never leave you like that."

He doesn't speak any more. He simply cries with me more. I adjust myself on his lap, and kiss him passionately on the lips. That simple kiss seems to melt away all of our tears, and the morons in the village too. In the heat of the moment, he deepens the kiss, kissing me more passionately and running his hands up and down my back. My tail twitches and waggles in a frenzy. I notice him noticing my wagglily little tail, and suppress a giggle. "Hehe… I love that little tail of yours." He says breaking the kiss. "It's just so cute."

I snigger a little, waggling it more, making him laugh too. "Hehe. Well, you know, I do believe we had a date." I say, nuzzling his nose a little.

"Ah, yes. We do have a date." He responds, nuzzling me back. "How about I help you and Farmer, and then we can find an excuse to go on that walk through the forest, hmm?"

"Hehe. Sounds like a plan to me. "I agree, helping him up.

We walk over past Handy's workshop and into Farmer's fields. "Aowll rait, Dreameh. Ah need you tuh help me smurf those smurfmelons from heah to th' silo. Van'ty, you think you kin help?" Farmer asks

How on smurf Farmer managed to get that preening pretty boy to help tend the fields I'll never know. "Mmhmm, Just let me smurf my new work gloves so all that icky dirt doesn't dry out my hands." Vanity responds, giving his "perfect" hair a flick and putting his precious mirror somewhere safe.

Surprisingly enough, Vanity can certainly hold his own when it comes to hauling smurfmelons. And when you really got to talking with the smurf, he's not half bad. "I tell you, Dreamy. I know a smurf who makes a smurfmelon cobbler that would even make Greedy beg." He says, continuing an earlier conversation about Greedy's cobblers and pies.

"Really? Who?" I ask. No one makes as good a smurfmelon cobbler as Greedy. I just have to know who it is!

"Actually, It's-" his reply is cut off by the crunch of machinery and a cry for help. "That was Farmer Smurf!" he shouts, his eyes widening and a look of flat-out terror crossing his face.

We run back to the fields as fast as our blue legs could carry us. The sight made Vanity's complexion turn almost as pale as mine. Farmer smurf is trapped underneath his tractor, and I have no idea how to help. Fly is to his right, trying to lift the fallen machinery. "Vanity, go get Hefty and Handy! They'll know what to do!" I stutter, running for the soon-to-be- crushed smurf.

He's gone without a response. "It's no use!" Fly yells to me as soon as I'm in earshot. "the thing's stuck tight!"

"Well we can't just give up! Keep trying!" I reply.

Poor Farmer is just lying there, face twisted in pain, tears streaming down his face, trying to cope with the agonizing pain. The poor smurf must have a couple of broken ribs, at the very least, broken hips or spine at the worst! I smurf that tractor all my might but I cant get it to budge an inch. It feels like forever before Hefty, Handy and Vanity show up. "There! See!" Vanity shouts, pointing at us.

The natural athlete of a smurf Hefty joins me on Farmer's left, Handy on his right next to Fly. " Now on the count of smurf, we'll lift the tractor. When we have it up, pull him out of there, Vanity!" Handy says to us.

We all nod in compliance "One- two- three- SMURF!" he shouts, counting us up.

I used as much strength as I had in my scrawny little body. Right when I felt like my head's about to explode from such a strenuous task, Vanity yells at us "You're clear! I've got him!"

Exhaling heavily, I put down the tractor. Hefty and Handy start sprinting to the village to find Papa smurf. My eyes wander to Farmer. He's sweating heavily, taking short, shallow breaths. Vanity smurf is sitting next to him, still deathly pale, and holding Farmer's hand so tight it almost looks like he's cutting off circulation. "Oh, Farmer, please say you'll be okay!" Vanity says, his voice shaky and broken, sounding like he's about to cry. "I need you! I- I love you!"

Fly and I steal a confused glance and keep watching. "Shugah, watch wha' you say… There's… there's still smurfs here, y'know…" Farmer says, using his free hand to gesture to us.

Vanity turns his head quickly and sees Fly and I watching the intimate scene. "And- when I said 'I need you, I love you' I meant 'I need your help rearranging my furniture sometime and I love your strength.'" He responded quickly, obviously trying to cover something up.

"No, don't worry, you have nothing to-" Fly starts to say, moving his hands defensively before Papa smurf and the others come and he smurfs up.

Luckily, Hefty and Handy brought the stretcher with them. Trying to keep him as flat as possible, we lift Farmer onto it and rush him back to Papa smurf's lab. After about a half- hour of Papa smurf examining him, he turns to the rest of us. "I'm afraid the tractor broke three ribs." He explains. "And two of them have punctured his lung. He's even starting to cough blood."

All five of us cringe. Vanity looks like he's about to cry. Not that I blame him. "I'm afraid, my little smurfs, that Farmer has to undergo an emergency surgery or else…" He starts, but doesn't have to continue.

Vanity's face flushes even paler than mine. His lower lip quivers ever so slightly. "Dad gum! P-p-p-papa Smurf, Ah jus' cain't do it! Ah-ah-ah-ah CAIN'T!" Farmer responds, trying to get up.

Hefty and Handy keep him from standing "Careful, Farmer! You could hurt yourself even more!" Hefty says, gently keeping him from standing.

I don't think I've ever seen a smurf look so terrified. Farmer naturally has a dark shade of blue skin from being out in the sun all day, but at this moment in time, he looks as white as a sheet. His injured chest is rising and falling in short intervals. His eyes look panicky and are darting all over the room. I can see the sweat on his face glisten from here. "Ah-ah-ah-ah CAIN'T, Papa!" He repeats, sounding positively frantic.

"Farmer! What on earth is the matter?" Papa smurf asks him, confused at the situation.

"He's smurfalogically afraid of surgery. Ever since Cobbler had to have that shoulder replacement a few years back." Handy explains.

I remember that. Geez, everyone was scared then. Cobbler almost died from having too powerful of a sedative - and to top it off, Farmer was in the infirmary room suffering from a trick knee injury when it was all happening. Left the poor smurf scarred for life, apparently not surprisingly. "Ah-ah-ah CAIN'T!" Farmer persists, determined.

Then Vanity swoops in and takes his open hand. "Hey, now. I'm here. I'm your best friend, I can help you through it." he says, looking deep into his eyes.

"Ah jus' CAIN'T Van'ty…. Ah jus' CAIN'T…" he insists, terrified tears filling his eyes.

"Please, Farmer. We don't want to lose you… PLEASE let Papa smurf operate…" Vanity says pleadingly.

I feel like we're watching something very personal and intimate. Something that almost feels hard to watch, yet at the same time I can't look away from. The two gaze into each other's eyes for a moment or two before Farmer turns to Papa smurf. "O- o- o- orriat…. But Van'ty… promise me you'll be there when Ah wake up…" he says, obviously still distressed.

Vanity breathes a sigh of relief. "Good…" he says, still squeezing his hand reassuringly.

He turns his head towards Papa smurf. "Papa smurf, I think if you're gonna be doing this, we'd better get it done soon." He says, his voice slightly lower.

"Yes, right. Hefty, will you please find Brainy and Alchemist while I prepare the sedative?" Papa asks, quickly walking to his potions table and measuring out various ingredients.

Hefty nods and ducks out the door. Fly and I simply take a seat across from Farmer and Vanity. Vanity is still holding Farmer's hand in a consoling manner. "Ah'm scared, Van'ty… Ah- ah- ah've neva been so scared in ma liaf…" Farmer says, tears falling from his eyes.

"I'm right here, my friend. I promise, I'll be right here the whole time." Vanity says, patting his hand. "and I'll look fantastic doing it!" he adds, winking at his reflection in his mirror.

The rest of us roll our eyes. Out of the blue, the door opens and in dash Papa smurfs faithful apprentices. "Papa smurf! We're here! How can we help?" Alchemist asks, eager to help his master.

"I've almost got the sedative ready. Brainy, go get me my tools from my medicine cabinet. Alchemist, Hefty, help me secure Farmer. We can't risk his fears taking over and smurfing more injuries." Papa smurf orders, mixing more ingredients inside a bubbling flask.

Even from over here, I can see Farmer's body quaking with fear as Hefty uses leather straps to secure his arms to the table. "N-n-n-no 'un ever said anythin' about tha'!" He half shouts, trying to fight back with his still free lower body.

It takes all their strength to secure his flailing legs. His chest rises and falls rapidly. His eyes dart around the room, terror dominating his expressions. Even when he is completely secured to the table, he struggles immensely. "There! It's ready. Brainy, turn over his wrist. I have to get this directly into a vein or else the sedative won't take effect." Papa orders, taking a clean syringe from his medical bag.

He fills the barrel of the syringe with the sedative and flicks it to clear it of air bubbles. He carefully injects Farmer's wrist with the mixture, the smurf giving an uncharacteristically scared whimper. The terrified smurf continues his futile struggles, tears streaming down his face. Slowly but surely, the scared smurf's struggles start ebbing away. Papa puts a hand on the scared smurf's forehead and strokes his dusty-colored hair in a comforting manner. "Shh, shh… It's all right, my little smurf. It's all right." He coos softly.

The scared smurf's struggles reside and his head lays relaxed. Even from here, I can see his death grip slacken from Vanity's now white knuckles. "There. Looks as though he's finally under." Papa smurf observes, giving Farmer a few final pats on the forehead.

He uses a cover up to protect his clothing, and covers his mouth with a cotton mask. Brainy and Alchemist do the same, and place a sterile sheet over Farmer's body. "Vanity, it might be best if you make yourself scarce for a couple of hours." Papa says to the still- present narcissist smurf.

"But Papa smurf, what about Farmer?" he asks, concern thick in his voice.

"Vanity, I get the feeling you won't want to stick around much longer." Alchemist responds, adjusting his starred hat.

Vanity hesitates by his friend's side for a moment, then releases his hand and joins us. "Don't worry, Vanity. We'll find you as soon as it's over." Brainy says, dismissing Vanity's obvious concern.

"Come on, guys. We should go smurf the rest of the smurfmelons while there's still light out." Fly says, standing and ushering us out before Papa smurf and his apprentices make the first incisions.

It only takes another hour before we have all the smurfmelons in the silo. "Goodness…. They… They sure are taking a while…" Vanity says, concerned.

"Don't worry, Vanity." Handy assures him with a muddy hand on the shoulder. "Papa smurf knows what he's doing."

"Yeah, Vanity. Farmer's a fighter." Hefty says, giving him a knuckle bump to the shoulder.

He exhales a sigh. "Yes, I suppose you're right." He mutters.

I can tell he's anxious. Smurf, any smurf could see that. Mine and Fly's eyes meet, and I know we're thinking the same thing. We have to talk to Vanity about whatever was going on with him and Farmer. "Hey, Vanity, ol' buddy, you look like you're smurfin' on eggshells. How about we take a break and go smurf up some sassafras and sarsaparilla cider?" I ask, leading him aside.

"Yeah. I'll go with you too." Fly adds.

Vanity tenses up. "ehm- no, no, it's just fine! I'm fine, I don't need a break." He says, as if he's trying to avoid us.

"Aw, go ahead, Vanity. We're almost done anyways." Hefty says, hauling the last load of smurfmelons up to the silo.

"Yeah, You've been working all day. A break's not gonna smurf ya." Handy says, making adjustments to the tractor.

Vanity mumbles words of discouragement under his breath. "C'mon. just a short break?" Fly tries encouraging him.

"well.. Okay… but just a short break…" Vanity mumbles.

The three of us walk to my house, and I put a kettle on the stove. "You- eh-want any sugar?" I ask, getting it out of a hanging cabinet.

He shakes his head. He looks as though he's being served his last meal. "so- eh- You and Farmer? Are you like….?" Fly asks, being a bit too blunt for his own good.

the color disappears from Vanity's face. "Fly, really?" I ask, annoyed.

He shrugs his shoulders defensively. The kettle whistles and I take it off the stove. In the uncomfortable silence, I take three mugs from the cabinet and add sassafras and sarsaparilla grounds. "well- ehrm…. Sort of…" Vanity admits, squirming in his chair a bit. "It's complicated…"

"You have nothing to worry about, Vanity." Fly assures him, sounding a bit relieved himself.

I bring the hot mugs to the table. "You're among friends here, Vanity." I say, putting a comforting hand on his.

He looks at me confused. "What do you mean by that?" he asks.

Fly stands from his seat and walks to me. "Well, you see…." I trail off.

Fly puts his hand on the curve of my waist, and I put my hand where his is. I can't help but look at him and smile. "You two?" Vanity gapes, surprised.

I shrug my shoulders and nod. "wow," he marvels, staring into his cup, swirling its contents before taking a hesitant drink, "I thought we were the only ones…"

"We only recently found each other," I admit, "but yes, you're not alone."

Vanity exhales a deep sigh, "Oh, God… You- you don't know how happy I am to hear that…" he says, smiling, laughing, and crying all at the same time.

Fly and I put our hands on the weeping smurf. "So… Now that we know about each other," I start, "Fly and I have been talking, and we think that it would be in everysmurf's best interest if we told Papa smurf about our alternative lifestyles."

Vanity starts shaking his head violently. "No… Papa smurf will never accept us!" he states, discouraged.

"But Vanity, aren't you tired of having to keep your love a secret?" Fly asks, trying to change his mind, "Don't you want to kiss him on the cheek at the breakfast table because he managed to get you extra strawberries? Or sunbathe together at the beach? Or, gosh, how about spend a romantic evening together without having to smurf up some kind of excuse?"

Vanity nods, still looking discouraged. "Of course I want to…. I wanna walk through the village with him on my arm, and say 'he's mine. That's my smurf'. Smurf, I wanna shout it from the mountaintops that Farmer is the most absosmurfly amazing smurf I could ever know..."He says, smiling and clasping his hands over his heart, "But no smurf will accept us… Remember what happened when we were smurflings?"

I clench my fists. Yes, I remember. I remember it very clearly.


	6. Chapter 6 We Have To Tell Them

With painful remembrance, I remember what happened all those years ago. I was only young smurfling of 130 when it happened. Vanity was a couple of years younger.

_It had been raining all that day and the village square was one giant mud hole. Most all the smurflings young and old were playing in the mud, making mud pies, making mud forts, and just generally wallowing in the muck. All except for three of us- Vanity, Tailor and I. at first, the smurfs mostly ignored us and went on with their gross play. "Hey, Vanity! Catch!" A certain smurfling by the name of Tracker shouts, playfully hurling a mud pie at Vanity. _

_The mucky "pie" explodes on contact, splattering all over him. "Tracker! Why would you DO that! You just ruined my favorite outfit!" Vanity wined, accessing the damages "It's gonna take all day to scrub the stains out of these pants!"_

_Tracker scoffed, crossing his arm and breathing a snort of haughtiness. "Why do you even care? Only GIRLS worry about their clothes." He scoffed, stressing the word girls._

"_No they don't!" I said, trying to defend him, "I worry about my clothes too. Cause I dun' wanna wash them all th' time."_

"_Oy, I MAKE em, I GOTTA worreh." Tailor chimed in, his unique, very LOUD voice speaks over the crowd._

_Tracker stood and scoffed like the bully he is and sneered at us. "I get it now… you're a buncha LADY-Smurfs!" he jeered._

_The other smurfs started laughing, still sitting in the muck. Immediately, Tailor piped up, his loud voice sounding over the crowd. "I am NOT a lady-smurf!" He protested._

"_Neither am I!" I joined in, crossing my arms._

"_Leave us alone, you bully!" Vanity said, putting his hands on his hips._

"_Well, then, Tailor, If you're not a lady-smurf, then prove it! Throw mud at those sissies with us!" Tracker sneered, cornering Tailor._

"_Why! Why would I do such an unsmoify thing! I won't do it!" He said, turning his back._

"_Ok then, it's your clothes!" Tracker replied, readying his aim. _

_I don't blame him for what he did. He came and apologized later. Smurf, he did our chores for us for a week. But to this day, I can't believe what Tailor did next. "WAIIIT! No! Stop! I'll… I'll do it…" Tailor spoke, finally cracking under Tracker's peer pressure._

_Vanity and I looked at him with betrayed looks on our faces. Tailor smurf smurfed out. The traitor to our friendship walked to the mud hole and removed two icky globs of mud. Hanging his head, he walked to us, remorse in his face. "I'm sorry…" He said to us._

_In one swift movement, Tailor mud –pied both of our faces, letting the muck drip from our faces down to our pants and shoes. Then a barrage of mud pies and rocks rained down on us, dirtying our clothes and bodies. This firing squad only stopped when Papa smurf finally came out of his lab. I stuck around to listen to them get chewed out, but Vanity ran away to the river as soon as the onslaught was over. _

All these years and I've never forgotten that day. The day we were bombarded because we were "lady-smurfs". What a bunch of hooey! Vanity is sitting at my kitchen table hugging his arms with his head hung. Him and I have never been particularly good friends, but I still feel so sorry for him… For me, I only had that one major act of injustice, but not Vanity. He's suffered torture from that bully Tracker and his crew almost all his life. Never anything drastic, thankfully, but still… Papa smurf can only help so much… "I can't really say 'I know how you feel'," I admit, trying to break the awkward silence. "But I can say that you're not alone anymore. And that not everysmurf in the village feels the way Tracker does."

"How do you KNOW that?" Vanity says snapping at me. "You haven't exactly smurfed out of the closet. How on smurf would you know the other smurfs aren't gonna put us through HELL for who we are? Tell me, Dreamer! HOW?"

I cringed when he called me Dreamer. Seems like people only call me that when they're mad with me. But I can tell he's really smurfing under a lot of stress right now, so I'll let it go. "Because my brother knows I'm in love with my best friend." I explain, "Smurf, Hefty was the first person I ever told! Fly being second, of course…"

Vanity puts his head in his hands. "Hefty is the one smurf I KNOW we have as an ally. And a smurfin' GOOD one too." I speak, defending my brother, "As long as we have Hefty in our corner, the fight's not over until the Greedy smurf sings."

The agitated smurf sniggers a little, probably imaging Greedy the glutton pausing from his never-ending face stuffing to sing. "Okay?" I say, waiting for the egocentric smurf's reply.

Vanity takes his head from his hands and smiles a bit. "Yes. Okay." With that agreement, he rubs his eyebrows and temples with his hand, and takes a look at himself in his ever-present mirror. "Oh, smurf is me! I look like such a hot mess!"

Fly and I smile a little. Serious discussion or not, Vanity will always be Vanity. We watch as he dabs his still- watering eyes with the corner of his hat, blinking away most of the moisture. Then he takes a long drink from his tepid cup of cider. "I wish Farmer would wake up soon…" Vanity mumbles, staring off into space.

I nod my head a little. "Don't worry, Vanity. Farmer's gonna be just fine." Fly consoles him. Realizing I've barely touched my cider, I swirl my cup a little, letting the grounds settle again and take a sip. My face curls a little. Bleh. Too sweet! Now I remember why I had so much in the cupboard. I discreetly pour the rest in a nearby plant. Just as soon as I put the cup in the sink, somesmurf knocks on my door. "See? That's probably them now." Fly says, standing to answer the door.

Papa smurf is standing in the doorway, an absentminded look on his face. "Ah, Flier. Handy and Hefty said that you and Dreamy were here with Vanity. Is he still here?" he asks.

"Yeah, he's right in here. Please, come in." Fly says, inviting him in.

"Oh, Papa Smurf!" Vanity exclaims, standing and rushing to him. "How is he?"

"The surgery was a complete success, Vanity." Papa smurf reassures him with a pat on the shoulder. "He will have to be careful for a couple of weeks, and he'll have to come back in a week or two to get the stitches taken out. But by the end of the month, Farmer should be feeling like his old smurfy self."

Vanity breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank smurfness!" he says, comforted smile spread wide across his face. "Where is he? Can I see him?"

"He's resting. Hasn't woken up from the anesthesia quite yet." Papa replys, "But he should in the next half hour or so if you'd like to wait with him."

Vanity nods, still smiling. "Thank you, Thank you Papa smurf!" he says, taking his mirror from the table and hugging our beloved papa tightly.

"Yes, of course, Vanity. I'm glad I could help him." Papa smurf smiles, returning the hug. "I have to return to my lab now. I can't leave Brainy alone in there for too long," he chortles, rolling his eyes a bit before he turns to leave.

"Thanks again for all you've done, Papa smurf." I say, seeing him out.

"All in a days work, my little smurfs." He says with a fatherly smile on his face.

An explosion is heard from his lab. "Papa smuuuuurf!" we hear Brainy's obnoxious voice.

Papa smurf lowers his head and rubs his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "Oh, Brainy… not again!" he says, running towards his lab.

I turn back into my door, and see Vanity standing right there. "Dreamy…" he says.

"Yeah?" I reply.

He throws his arms around me, squeezing me just a little too hard. "Thank you for everything…" he says with a smile as wide as the moon.

The three of us walk to the infirmary. The flip-flop smurf Dabbler is tending to another smurf's minor injury. "Ah, hello, Vanity. Fly. Dreamy. Come to visit Farmer?" He asks, turning to us.

Vanity nods. "Just point us to him." I say.

Dabbler nods and shows us to Farmer's section of the infirmary. The smurf is still sleeping, and still tied to the bed. "Why is he still tied down?" Vanity asks, concern heavy in his voice as he rushes to his bedside. "He'll be absosmurfly terrified!"

Dabbler nears the bed. "Calm down, Vanity. Farmer's still recovering, and sometimes smurfs react badly to anesthesia when they wake up. Papa smurf didn't want for him to wake up and inadvertently hurt himself." He explains, putting his fingers underneath the base of Farmer jaw, feeling for a pulse and counting the beats. "It's only a simple precaution and he'll be released just as soon as the anesthesia's worn off."

Dabbler finished taking Farmer's vitals and left to go tend to other patients. I closed the curtain that separates Farmer's sector from the rest of the infirmary. Lucky for us, he had a bed in the corner and no other smurfs were in the sanatorium. Fly and I took two chairs, leaving one for Vanity. He sat next to Farmer's bed, intertwining his fingers with Farmer's right hand, which had tubes and needles in taped in place. With his other hand, Vanity strokes his lover's dusty hair and speaks intimate, unheard words into his ear. Farmer's mouth twitches and forms an involuntary grin. I smile, marveling at the familiarity of the two. I wonder how long they've been together? I wonder if Fly and I will ever be so close…

As if sensing me thinking of him, Fly pulls my chair next to him. "I guess this kinda smurfs a wrench in our date plan." He says jokingly, putting his arm around my waist.

I look at him with hooded eyes. "Oh, I'm not too worried. I get the feeling I'm going to be smurfed with insomnia tonight." I wink.

"Hehe. I'll be counting on it." he says with a sexy smolder.

Unexpectedly, Farmer starts stirring. "He's waking up!" Vanity says, pure relief in his voice.

In only a couple of moments, his eyes start to open. He tries to move his arms and legs, but finds out that he can't. Panicking, he starts struggling again. Vanity immediately puts his hand on his face, gently turning Farmer towards him. "Shh, shh... hey, I'm right here, darling." He coos softly, smoothing his cheek with his hand, "It's over, Papa smurf said it was a success."

"Oh, dad gum, Van'ty… Ah was so scared!" Farmer sighs, sounding soothed. "Part uh me though Ah'd nevah see ya gen…"

"Shhh, don't talk like that…" Vanity utters softly, nuzzling him tenderly. "Don't think of such unsmurfy things…"

Vanity removes the leather bindings around Farmer's wrist, and intertwines their fingers. They share a glance that embodies the intimacy and love of any married couple I've ever smurfed. "Shug, Ah gotta get this other tie off." Farmer says with a demure smile.

He releases Vanity's hand, and turns slightly to loosen his straps. "Ehm- here, I can help." I say, helping him undo the strap on his arm.

Farmer's tan blue skin flushes a pallid, sickly blue. "No, no! Don't worry! We know what you're thinking." I say, putting my hands up as soon as his bindings are removed. "We're in the same boat." I add, gesturing to myself and Fly.

"Dad gum!" Farmer remarks, astonished. "Ah thought we wuh-"

"No, darling. We're not alone anymore!" Vanity says, overcome with emotion.

"And you never will be, guys." A familiar voice says, drawing back the curtain.

Hefty enters Farmer's section of the infirmary. Farmer's eyes widen again. "Don't worry, Hefty's on our side." Vanity consoles him.

Hefty nods. "And I think I have a plan for how to talk to Papa Smurf…"


	7. Chapter 7 Confessions

It's been a few days since Fly and I found out about Vanity and Farmer. We thought it'd be best to wait a few days for Farmer to regain his strength before we faced Papa smurf. Now that Farmer was up and moving around and our self-imposed deadline was passed, we had to face the greatest adversity our relationship has ever faced. We have to tell Papa Smurf about who we are. Easier said than done, though….

For now its breakfast time. Papa smurf has already run through his script and gone to his place at the head of the table. Nat and Lazy are sitting in their normal spots, chatting away. I poke at my pancakes with my fork, not actually taking any bites. "Huh? Dreamy, w'smatter with you? You haven't even touched your pancakes." Lazy says with a wide-mouthed yawn.

"Yeah… And you haven't had a dream in almost three days…" Nat states, sounding worried.

"Just- not really hungry, Lazy." I reply nervously.

I don't seem to be fooling him or Nat. "Dreamy…" Nat says, tangible concern in his voice. "Are you really okay?"

I blink a little at that. "Y-yes… Why would I not be?" I reply, plastering on a fake smile, "I'm just fine, Nat."

The adolescent smurfling is still not convinced. "I'm FINE, Nat. There's nothing to worry about." I tell him firmly. "It's just been a weird couple of days, that's all."

I gather my dishes and stand to leave, Nat still looking at the ground, his oversized hat covering his face. I have a big, unsmurfy lump in my throat. I feel bad lying to the kid. But, who'm I kidding… He wouldn't understand… He's just a kid… I bring my dishes to the washtub. "Why! Dreamy! You haven't even touched your pancake!" Greedy exclaims, looking confused.

"Don't be offended, Greedy!" I say, waving my hands defensively, "I'm just… not hungry… I had a lot at dinner…"

He raises an eyebrow suspiciously. "Uh-huh… Well, leave that here, and I'll finish it." he says, turning and gesturing to the table to his right.

I nod my head and leave the plate on the table. As I'm leaving the mess hall, I hear a familiar voice broken up with tears. "I- I don't know what's wrong with him, Papa Smurf…" the scratchy voice blubbers, "He refuses to talk to me…"

Nat. Oh, smurf, Nat… "Well, Nat, There's nothing I can do. If Dreamy doesn't want to talk, there's nothing I can do to help." I hear Papa's voice trying to console him, "Until Dreamy talks to us, my hands are smurfed."

"Please, Papa smurf! Isn't there anything you can do?" I hear the drowsy voice of Lazy ask, gloom overshadowing the tiredness in his voice.

"I'm sorry Lazy." Papa smurf says, sounding gloomy as well, "I can't fix something if I don't know what's broken."

My heart sinks into my chest listening to their words. I hate lying to Nat. But… "Hey. You ready?" Hefty asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I take a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be, Hefty." I reply.

Vanity, Farmer and Fly join us. Fly takes my hand reassuringly. I squeeze it for a bit of comfort. It's now or never! We turn the corner to find Nat, Lazy and Papa. Nat's eyes are streaked with tears. I can't stand to see him like this…. "Papa smurf?" I say, fighting the lump in my throat.

Papa looks at the five of us and smiles a little. "Oh, hello, boys. How can I help you?" he asks.

"We'd like to talk to you, Papa smurf." Hefty states. "And it's rather important."

Papa smurf scratches his beard and looks at the teary- eyed Nat. "We can continue this conversation later, Nat." he says, putting a hand on Nat's shoulder.

The smurfling sniffs a little and wipes his eyes and drippy nose. "Okay, Papa…" he says, downcast.

"Come, we'll talk in my lab." Papa says, gesturing for us to follow him.

I stop before leaving Nat. I don't know what to do, but I can't just leave him like this… I move his hat out of his face and look at him right in the eyes. "It's okay, Nat." I say, "I'm okay."

The kid's not convinced. He breaks eye contact and leaves with Lazy. "You coming, Dreamy?" Vanity calls, breaking my thoughts.

"Yeah… I'll be right there…" I reply.

We soon arrive in Papa smurf's lab. The familiar sounds and smells soothe me in a special sort of way. Suddenly I'm reminded of how I'd come in here when Mama was alive… She'd drop everything she was doing and tell me a story when I was sad…

_I came into her room "Mama? Will you tell me a story?" I asked._

"_Of course, sweetheart. Come here and sit with me." She replied, patting the bed next to her._

_I sat with her on the bed. Even now when she was so sick, she was incredibly beautiful. Long, brown hair, pale, pale blue skin, and dark circles that made her eyes look lovely. And she smelled really nice too… Like sarsaparilla and sandalwood… She'd hold me in her arms and rub my forehead, and talk in the most gentle and beautiful voice… she told me stories about princes and princesses, about knights and dragons, about great heroes and great sacrifices. She'd tell me stories about faraway lands, about urban legends, or even about things that made no real sense whatsoever._

_Nobody saw it coming when she died that night…_

_I miss her. I miss her so much…_

"What is it you boys would like to talk to me about that's so important?" Papa smurf asks, jarring me from my thoughts.

It's now or never. "Papa smurf," I speak, wishing I could grab Fly's hand for confidence, "Is some love wrong?"

He cocks his head, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well…" I start, hoping I don't start babbling, "is some kinds of love wrong?"

"You're not making any sense, Dreamy."

I swallow hard. "What I'm trying to ask is…" my voice catches in my throat. I work up the courage to speak again. "Is it wrong for a smurf to be in love with another smurf as opposed to a smurfette?"

There. Now it was out in the open, waiting for an answer. Oh God, he's not saying anything! "P-papa Smurf..." I say weakly, "please say something…"

I can't even read Papa's emotions. "How… How dare you…" Papa speaks, his voice seething with anger. "How DARE you smurf me with such an unsmurfy question!"

His rage hurts like a giant pike being shoved through my chest. "P-papa…" I say, weakly.

"Dreamy, there are few things I don't tolerate in my village," he rages, turning his back on us, "Smurf and Smurf relationships are one of them."

I knew it would happen. I knew he was going to react like this. That doesn't help the pain. "Get out." Papa states, plainly.

My heart drops into my stomach. "W-what?" I ask, disbelievingly.

Papa looks me in the eyes, anger and betrayal shooting out of his eyes like daggers. "Get out. Get out of my house, get out of my sight, GET OUT OF MY VILLAGE." He spats.

Tears bubble from my eyes, uncontrollably. "P-papa…" I blubber.

Hefty steps forward to defend me. "Papa, you're being unreasonable." He says, calmly. "Dreamy is your SON… you can't just turn your back on him because he's a DREAMER."

Papa stares at Hefty, poison in his eyes. "HE IS NOT MY SON." He spats every word.

Hefty defending me, even if it isn't very well, boosts my confidence. I take Fly's hand and step forward. "Hefty." I say, trying to keep my voice even. "Thanks. But I think I ought to talk to Papa now."

Hefty nods his head and backs up. I look at my Papa. He refuses to look at me in the face. "Papa…." I say, gaining more confidence with Fly by my side. "I know I can't change your mind about what you consider taboo. I know that I can probably never add up to what you want me to be now. But- I want you to know that no matter what you think of me, no matter what you feel, I'll always love you, and I'm sorry, but- I can't deny who I am. I love Fly. I love him like I've never loved anysmurf before…"

I pause, taking a moment to wipe away the tears that bubble up in my eyes. "But… I want you to know, no matter how much you hate me…. I'll always call you my papa, and I'll always love you, no matter what."

The tears I've been fighting finally bubble out of my eyes. Fly rubs me reassuringly on the back. Hefty puts his meaty hand on my shoulder. "Papa smurf. Being like this doesn't change who we are." Vanity says, bravely speaking up. "Would you refuse to eat Greedy's cupcakes if he were like us? Would you refuse to use Miner's metals, or Handy's inventions? Refuse to wear pants made by Tailor? What if Baby grew up and realized that maybe he's in love with another smurf? What would you think of him?"

Papa smurf looks away, anger bubbling inside of him. "LOVE is LOVE no matter how you smurf it, Papa." Vanity says, "Gender doesn't change that."

No response from Papa smurf. Fly squeezes my hand. "Come on," He whispers to me. "Looks like we have packing to do."

I nod weakly, turning to leave. I- I still can't believe it… My own Papa hates me….all because I'm different… At least I'll finally get what I want…. I'll finally have a reason to leave this village… and never come back. "Wait…" I hear a gentler Papa smurf speak. "Don't go…"

I turn back to see a calmer looking Papa smurf. His facial features and demeanor is more relaxed than just a few minutes earlier. He still has his same disappointed body language, but it's more subtle now. Less- profound. He approaches me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "You're right." He says slowly, "You can't change my mind on how I feel about this,"

My heart sinks deep into my chest. "I was brought up with different beliefs. Beliefs that aren't always applicable anymore… The world has changed in the last five-hundred and forty-two years… what was once unacceptable two hundred years ago is challenged today…." He recounts, "I may not agree with who you love, Dreamy. But whether I like it or not, you will always be my son. No amount of denying can smurf that."

"W-what're you saying, Papa?" I ask, still a little dazed.

"I'm saying that even though I don't agree with your choice in lifestyle or lovers, you will always be my son, and all I want is for you to be happy." Papa says, looking me in the eyes. "I shall allow you and Fly, and Vanity and Farmer, and whichever smurf and smurf couples come into being, to be able to express your love. In however way you see it fit."

My heart stops- in a good way. A wide, disbelieving smile spreads across my face. Behind me, Farmer gives Vanity a big, smurfy kiss on the cheek. Hefty gives Fly a knuckle bump on the shoulder. And Papa smurf and I share a father-son embrace. His tight hug squeezes the tears right out of me. "Thank you, Papa…. Thank you…. Thank you…" I say, weakly.

"_Shh… Shh_…. Don't cry, Dreamy. Isn't this a happy occasion?" He says, rubbing my back with his callused, old hands.

"The happiest, Papa," I reply, still crying. "So happy I can't stop crying!"

This is it. Today is the day that starts the rest of my life with my dearest. Little do I know this is also the first step to the end.


	8. Chapter 8 Time Passed

It's been six months since that day. Six months Fly and I have been together. And six months since I lost the blinking firefly sign that hung over my head that read 'smurgin'. As well as six months since we told Lazy and Nat. The two of them took it surprisingly well. Nat didn't quite understand at first, but after some explanation and patience, he understood, and was happy for us. And on top of that, Nat's finally stopped bugging me about how I've been acting. I'm not sure whether or not to be happy, but at least he's finally stopped pestering me about it.

Not everything has been fine and smurfy in the last half-year. Tracker has been getting more and more blatant with his abuse on Vanity. There's only so much that Papa smurf can do to prevent it. Vanity has become very quiet in the last few months. He barely ever comes outside unless it's with one of us. He's starting to care less and less about how he looks. On top of all that, poor Vanity has lost a lot of weight... Farmer, Fly and I suspect depression, but haven't had the grapes to talk to him about it. That's first on the to-do list.

Something else that's been different is Hefty… for the last few months, he just seems really….. Like he's shrugging me off… at least last year he would pretend to listen to my dreams… Now he barely listens to the first two lines I speak before he gives me some generic response, and continues doing whatever it is he was doing. I don't know what's changed him… It's as if we're not even related anymore…

Today is a new day. The morning light hits my eyes, waking me from another smurfy dream. Absentmindedly, I feel around on the right side of my bed, feeling around for Fly. Then I remember: Miner, Handy, Smurfette and Papa went to go collect special rocks and minerals from way up in the mountains and they needed him to smurf with his flying machines. I sigh. I miss him already. We haven't really been apart for more than a couple days- Fly and the others have been gone for almost a week now. I hope they're okay…

Oh well, I think, hoping isn't going to bring them back any faster. I might as well go write down my dreams and head to breakfast. I do just that, smurfing a clean pair of pants and hat. The upside to Fly and the others being gone for the week is that at least I don't have to hear Papa's script. I take my seat next to Lazy, taking a couple bites of pancake. "What's wrong, Dreamy?" Nat's childish voice asks, "You look anxious."

The kid's smarter than I give him credit for. "It's Fly, "I sigh, "They've been gone for an awful long time… I'm just feeling a little anxious…" I admit.

"Aw, don't worry, Dreamy." Lazy snaps awake and pats me on the shoulder.

I don't feel so convinced. "So, didja have any dreams last night?" Nat asks, pushing his oversized straw hat off his face.

I feel my eyes light up. "Oh, yes, Nat! So many smurfy dreams!" I reply with a jack o' lantern smile. "Why, I saw a mushroom house so tall that it was all the way up in the clouds! And- and- and- a thingamabob that can play music from anywhere, and-"

"We already have one of those, you hickory nut!" Nat interrupts. "Smurfs always play music, and anywhere we can use our voice we sing."

"Yeah, Dreamy! Try smurfing up something that we don't already have!" Lazy says dismissively.

Well then. Such great friends I have. I don't even know why I bothered. Every time I tell them about my dreams, all they do is knock me down. It's a little hard to believe that Nat was crying when he was talking to Papa Smurf about me last year. With all his constant put-downs, it's a wonder we've stayed friends all these years. I wish Fly was here…

Wishing to leave the table, I stand and gather my dishes. "Hey, wait, you're not even done with your pancakes." Nat said, putting his hand on mine as I pick up a water glass.

"I'm not hungry." I mumble in reply.

"You've been eating less than normal, Dreamy…" Nat observes, a worried look on his face. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but you look like you've lost weight too..."

"Yeah…"Lazy says drifting back into sleep.

I roll my eyes a little to add to my façade "Pssh! C'mon, Nat, I'm fine. I haven't lost weight either. I'm still a three- apples- high, half-apple wide and one apple weighing smurf. I'm perfectly fine." I say, shrugging him off.

He clams up and sits there with a defeated pout. _Not so fun being shrugged off, is it shorty?_ I sneer in my head. And speaking of sneering…. Out of the corner of my eye I see Tracker walking towards Vanity and Farmer. In one, horrifying movement, I watch as Tracker dumps a full glass of staining smurfberry juice all on top of Vanity's head. "Hey! Why'd you do that!" Vanity whines, sounding flabbergasted.

Tracker's head goes close to Vanity's. Even from half a table away, I can hear Tracker talk to Vanity. "Papa smurf isn't here to save you now, you stupid blue maggot." He hisses, menacingly, "Who's to stop me from finally puttin' you in the ground?"

Vanity flushes to a pale light blue. Farmer turns him from Tracker and whispers incoherent words of comfort as he rubs his back softly. Even from all the way over here I can see Vanity shaking. I have to do something. Anything. I approach Tracker, putting a hand on his shoulder and turn him away from Vanity. "Me. I'm the smurf who'd stop you." I reply bravely.

Tracker snorts in annoyance. "Pfft! YOU? Why, you're nothing more than a silly DREAMER. What do you think YOU can do to save this undeserving little queer with your head always in the clouds?"

I tighten my grip on his shoulder. "You're a stupid, worthless fantasist who everyone ignores and makes fun of, and you don't even have the grapes to just smurf up already. Why don't you just kill yourself? DREAMER!" He sneers and jabs, just toying with me now.

That smurfs it! In one fast movement I throw a punch to his cheek that I'm almost certain knocked a tooth lose. Stunned and dazed Tracker totters back a little before I take him down with a kneecap kick and sit on his chest, firing punches, one after the other in a seething rage. Some smurfs gather around us, chanting "fight, fight, fight" but no one tries to hold me back. "Dreamy, please st-" I hear Nat's voice, and I feel his hands on my shoulder, but I think I might have accidentally hit him when I was winding up to clout Tracker again.

The crowd gives me a wider birth so they avoid the windups of my flying fists. I still feel them connect to others, but without voices, I have no way of knowing who they are. The "fight" goes on for another minute or two before some loud, distinguished voice booms above the crowd "WHAT ON SMURF IS GOING ON IN HERE!" the voice demands.

I stop pummeling the deserving bully, and get off his chest, finally letting the sniveling coward up. Papa Smurf, Handy, Miner and Smurfette are all standing in the doorway to the mess hall, mouths agape. I quickly scan the silent crowd for Fly, until I find him standing behind me, blood dripping from his lip. My heart sinks. I'd hit Fly… "Dreamyyyyy." Papa says, anger powerful in his voice. "What is the meaning of this!"

His angry voice cuts through me like knives. "I- I- I'm sorry, Papa…" I stutter, "He was threatinin' to kill Vanity… and- and-" My voice catches in my throat.

"That is not true, Papa smurf." Tracker lies like the bully he is. "I never once threatened Vanity's life."

"LIAR!" I yell back at him, Fly holding me back so I don't attack him again. "HE'S A SMURF LIAR!"

"Dreamy! You've had your turn to talk, now let Tracker tell his side of the story." Papa smurf scolds me, stepping in as a mediator.

"Well," Tracker starts, crocodile tears dotting his eyes, "was just coming over here to apologize for all the years of mistreatment to poor Vanity, when this little brute of a smurf comes and attacks me! I thought it would never end! Oh, I've never been so terrified in my life!"

I roll my eyes very obviously. "You KNOW that's not what happened, you smurf liar!" I spat at him.

He stops his false weeping and sneers at me, "Oh, really?" he jabs, "Let me ask, is there a smurf among you here that can honestly say that I threw the first punch?"

Silence. Deafening silence. Not one smurf stepped forward to defend me. I never felt so hurt in my life. Everyone heard what he'd said to me! Everyone saw what he'd done to Vanity, who during the skirmish retreated with Farmer and Greedy to try to get the stains out. _So this is what I get for defending my friends,_ I sneer internally.

Then, I hear footsteps behind me. A short, barefooted, brown overall-wearing smurfling with his big straw hat in his face steps forward. Once he moved his hat out of his face to talk, I can see where the little smurfling was hit. He looks as if he's been hit multiple times. His eye looks swollen and his nose is bleeding slightly. It feels as though I've been stabbed in the chest… It wasn't a lot of smurfs that I hit accidentally when I'd wind up…. It was one smurf that kept coming back and trying to stop me… "I saw what happened, and Tracker is lying." Nat calls, pointing a small finger at Tracker. "He dumped smurfberry juice all over Vanity, and then said that Papa Smurf wouldn't be around to defend him, and that he should smurf his back. Then Dreamy went over and warned Tracker that he was gonna defend Vanity… Then… Then Tracker told Dreamy to go kill himself, and Dreamy snapped… I tried to stop him, but I'm just not big enough…" Nat says, his head hung.

"Is this true, Dreamy?" Papa asks, anger still thick in his voice. "Were you really trying to defend Vanity?"

I nod, silently thanking Nat. Papa turns angrily to Tracker "I will deal with YOU in a minute." He says firmly, anger dripping from his voice.

He turns to me again. "And as for you Dreamy, you are to harvest all of the winter crops today, without breaks and without lunch or dinner." He scolds.

Hanging my head, I accept my punishment. I probably deserve more for what I did to Nat, but skipping meals is one of the worst punishments Papa smurf can deal out. "Now, get to chores, all of you." He says, dismissing the rest of us.

What would normally be a loud chorus spoke in a mumble "Yes, Papa smurf…"

I put a hand on Nat's shoulder. He looks at me, trying to see out of his swollen eye. "C'mon. I'm getting you cleaned up before I do anything in the fields."

"No. Papa smurf-"

"-Will understand. C'mon. You too Fly." I cut him off and turning to my lover.

The three of us walk to my house. I help Nat up onto the kitchen table and Fly sits close by. I search my closet for the first-aid kit. In the meantime, Fly gets something frozen out of the icebox for Nat's eye. "Gonna have one smurfofa shiner there, Nat." Fly says jokingly.

Nat smiles his goofy bumpkin-like smile. "Yeah, an' what's your story? Kiss a bee's butt?" he replys.

Fly shrugs in response "You'd think I'd learn my lesson. " he jokes.

I smile as I come in with a special dust the Papa gave me. "Here, inhale some of this, Nat. it should stop the bleeding." I say, giving him a small pinch.

He does, coughing a little afterwards. "Yech… smells like coconut and onions." he grimaces.

I shrug my shoulders. "It stinks, but it works."

I fix up Fly's busted lip with a similar powder, and nuzzle his cheek a little for good measure. "Heh." He chortles a little, "I had no idea you packed such a punch."

"Tell that to that smurfhole Tracker." I say, flexing whatever muscles I have in my left arm.

"I can't believe he said that stuff to you…" Nat says, his good eye looking at the floor, "I really hope Papa smurf chews him out good."

"I came in when you were at his throat, what exactly DID he say that set you off?" Fly asks, innocently enough.

I clench my fist in memory. In angry recollection, I told him the line as I heard it. "Smurf! If I'd been there I would've kicked his smurf too!" he says, shaking his head.

I smile. "Thanks," I say, giving him a hug.

I break the hug, and turn to my significantly shorter friend sitting on the table with a bag of ice on his eye. "I'm sorry, Nat… I'm sorry that I was so blind to what I was doing… I'm sorry I hurt you…."I say, remorse outlining my features.

Nat smurfs me the biggest hug his smurfling stature can smurf. "I'm more sorry I can't help you more." He says, obviously hinting at the melancholy I've been hiding from him.

"You help me enough, Nat." I reply.

I help him off of the table. "You should go talk to Papa smurf about that shiner. I'm gonna go out to the fields…"

Nat nods and skitters out the door. I let Fly give me a big, smurfy hug and kiss. "I'll save ya something from dinner." He half whispers to me.

"No, don't." I reply, "Papa smurf'll punish you."

He shrugs. "No. I wanna."

There's no arguing with him. So I sigh a little and thank him. He releases me, giving me a quick nuzzle. "I missed you" He says sweetly.

I blush just a little. "I missed you too" I reply, same amount of charm in my own voice.

"Hurry back, okay?" he whispers in my ear. "There's something I've wanted to do all week." He says huskily, sending chills down my back.

"Hehe. Okay" I reply, a coy little smile on my face.

The two of us part ways for the day. I run towards the fields, where Farmer is checking on his melon patch and checking the corn and Hefty is digging the crops out of the snow. "Dreamy! What took you so long?" Hefty scowls.

I forgot. He's not as patient with me as he was before. "Sorry, Hefty! Lost track of time!" I say, skidding to a halt.

"I don't care if you lost your hat! We've got to get the winter veggies in the silo. Get your head out of the clouds, Dreamy!" He growls in reply.

My heart sinks. Hefty never, ever used to tell me that… now it's become almost his catch phrase…

For the entire day, the three of us labor and tend to the fields. Farmer chuckles a little. "Hyuh-huyh-hyuh, Maybe ya'll should work outsiad more often, shugah. Y'skin's so pale it cou' bliand some'un!" Farmer jokes.

I smile a little and roll my eyes. A poke at my skin, how original. "Nah, farming just isn't my thing, pal." I reply. "Dreaming is."

Even out of the corner of my eye, I can see Hefty snort a little snort of annoyance.

_Smurf you, Hefty. At least I'm happy. _

_Sort of._

_Kind of._

_Ok, well, not._

_At all. _

I ignore his annoyance with me for the rest of the day. When it is finally dark and we've run out of work I bid my goodbyes and condolences to Farmer. "Hang on, shugah" he says, stopping me.

In his hand, he's stashed away a decently sized pouch of smurfberries and other assorted berries. He discreetly puts it in my palm. "Oh, thank you so much, Farmer, but I can't accept this… I'm being punished remember?" I reply, trying to give it back.

"Aw, shug, you deserve it," he says, pushing it back to me. "Cause'a you, Ah don' think that smurfho' Trackuh's gon' mess with mai Van'ty for a long tiam. It's th' least Ah can do. You're so thin owallready."

Why does everyone keep saying that? "Thank you, Farmer. You're a true friend."

"Aw, sho' nuff, shugah." He says with a smile.

Keeping the bag hidden, I make my way back to my home. Unlocking the door and slipping inside, I notice a single lit candle on my kitchen table. That's odd, I think to myself, I know I never lit any candles today.

Fly enters the room with an unopened bottle, answering my thoughts. "Wine?" he asks plainly.

"Sounds lovely" I answer, smiling sweetly.

I don't drink very often. But I love Farmer's specially made smurfberry wine. Fly opens the bottle and pours two half glasses. I take a seat at the table and swirl mine around a little to air it out-it tastes better that way. I bring the crystal glass to my lips and take a light sip. It's sweet, yet still has the pungent taste of wine. "Mm… It's a good year." I comment.

"I brought it from my private cellar." Fly comments. "Sorry, I couldn't sneak out any food. So I brought us some wine to make up for it."

"That's okay. Farmer gave me some berries to munch on." I comment, taking another sip.

The two of us share wine and assorted berries until the wee hours of the night. Between the two of us we probably smurf half a bottle of wine. "Hehe… I should really go home now," Fly whispers, holding me in his arms next to the fireplace. "Papa smurf wanted me and Alchemist to go into the forest tomorrow and collect Wormroot and Witches Hazel."

I pout a little. "Why can't his other little pest of an apprentice do it?" I ask, a little annoyed.

"Cause Papa's teaching Brainy a new potion."

"Feh. Let's see how long it takes before he blows the roof off the place."

Fly chuckles a little. "Not long, that's for sure."

I turn my self a little so I can look into his smurfy slate eyes. "You're so handsome," I smile, the alcohol in my system flushing my cheeks.

He caresses my flushed cheeks softly with the back of his hand. "And you're the most beautiful smurf in the entire village." He whispers huskily.

"I love you with all my smurfy heart." I say, bringing his face close to mine.

"I love you bigger than the sky." He says softly, resting his forehead against mine.

He says that sometimes. And that alone can shut me up. There's almost nothing that Fly loves more than the sky. That's the only reason he risks his life almost every day with his flying machines. He wants nothing more than to touch the sky. To fly among the clouds.

He kisses me softly, the light from the fireplace warming our cheeks. I deepen the kiss, wanting him like I've never wanted him before. He slowly stands, carefully taking me in his arms. He breaks the kiss and lays me on the bed, caressing my cheeks. I slowly smurf off my pants, leaving me in my striped boxers. Fly does the same, joining me on the bed. I gaze into his slate gray eyes, spellbound. "I love you…" I whisper softly.

"And I love you." He replys huskily, kissing me softly.

I wish this night could never end.


	9. Chapter 9 Goodbye Love

I wake slowly. I fell asleep fairly quickly last night, and had lots of new dreams to tell Fly. He was still asleep, huddled in the blankets, taking advantage of the warmth before facing the cold outside air. His sweet feather birthmark is showing. I smile and kiss it softly. His eyes flutter a little, opening slowly. "Hi." He says with a smile.

"Hi." I reply, returning the smile. "So much for going home, huh?"

He makes a noise resembling a chuckle. "Yeah, I guess."

Fly rolls over to face me and smiles demurely. "Have smurfy dreams, Dreamer?" he asks.

My smile widens even more. "Oh, yes! There was a box with voices and music inside, a- a- a- a- machine that heats food even faster than Greedy's oven, and a delicious,- empowering, even, drink called Red Smurf, and-" I am cut off by a knock at the door.

I smurf on a pair of pants and go to answer it. Brainy smurf. Standing there in all his arrogant, nerdy glory. Already feeling exasperated, I cross my arms and lean on the doorframe. "What's up, Brainy?" I ask.

The know-it-all nerd adjusts his glasses. "Papa smurf wanted to send me to tell you that you're late for breakfast, and Papa smurf always says 'breakfast is the most important meal of the day', and Papa smurf is always-"

"Thanks, Brainy. See you at breakfast." I say, starting to close the door.

"Oh, and remind Fly that he has to go help Al pick Witches Hazel and Wormroot today when you smurf him." Brainy adds, sticking his foot in the doorway so I am forced to listen.

"He knows." I nod. "See ya."

The nerd removes his foot from the door and I close it hastily. Then I turn to Fly. "Apparently we're late for breakfast." I use my 'Brainy smurf' voice.

Fly chortles a little with a roll of his eyes. "So I gathered." He says, taking his pants from the ground and stepping into the legs. "I gotta eat fast. Gotta help Al with those herbs."

I nod my head, leaving to brush my teeth. We walk to Greedy's mess hall, hand in hand. Before we enter, he gives me a hug and a kiss on the temple. "I'll go get us some food." He says softly.

"Thanks." I smile.

He releases my hand and goes to the serving line, holding two plates. "Ah, Dreamy" Papa says, approaching me. "How did you sleep?"

Back on the script. Fun. "As well as an insomniac can, I suppose." I reply plainly.

"Ah, yes, good." Papa mutters, twirling his beard in one hand, "Have you seen Hefty this morning?"

I clench my fist. _No… Am I my brother's keeper?_ "No… I haven't really talked to him in awhile." I reply, a hint of resentment in my voice.

He didn't even seem to notice the resentment in my voice. "Oh. I see… May I ask why not?"

_Because he's turned into a muscle-headed smurfhole!_ My mind screams. "I dunno… We've both just been busy lately." I lie through my teeth.

Papa smurf mumbles some unheard words under his breath. Part of me truly wishes he could see through me. Break through all of my walls. See through all my masks. But he can't. Or he won't. "I asked him yesterday to help with the Iceberry harvest today… How about you help him? Then you can spend some time together." Papa smurf suggests.

No… I don't WANNA spend time with him. "Sure, Papa. I can do that." I reply through clenched teeth.

He mumbles more words of thanks under his breath. I turn to leave. "Oh, and Dreamy,"

I shut my eyes and don't even bother to turn around. "Yes, Papa?"

"Please try and keep your head out of the clouds today. The birds have been reporting that Gargamel's out in the forest today." He warns.

"I will Papa smurf." I reply dryly.

I walk away to the place that Nat and Lazy saved. I dig right into my pancakes, starving from the day before. "So, didja have any neat dreams, Dreamy?" Lazy asks groggily.

"Uh-huh! Uh-huh!" I say, nodding excitedly, "There was this machine that could cook foods faster than Greedy's stove! And- and- and-"

Never fails. Nat cuts me off. "Faster than GREEDY'S stove? No way!" he says, "Greedy makes hundreds of servings for everysmurf every day. How could any oven be faster than Greedy's?"

A little annoyed, I reply. "I dunno, but it is… OH! And there was this sugary drink called Red Smurf that can keep anyone awake, and hyper, and-"

"Awake? Who would WANT to stay awake?" Lazy asks, sounding the most surprised I've ever heard him. "Your dreams don't make any sense."

"Yeah." Nat agrees.

I don't care. I don't even have to tell you my dreams but I choose to. "Yeah, I guess you're right." I reply, plastering a fake smile on my face.

Fly stands to clear his plates. Even though my pancake's only half eaten, I stand. "Here, I can take those." I say quietly. "You go ahead and meet up with Al. He's already waiting."

He nods. "Ok… Thanks." He smiles a little.

He hands me his dishes. I set them on the table next to me, and embrace him warmly. "Be careful, okay?" I tell him softly. "Papa said Gargamel's lurking around in the forest today."

"I will, hon." He whispers in my ear. "Promise."

I rest my head on his chest for a moment. "Stay warm too." I say, "I don't wanna know what color a frozen smurf turns."

He chuckles a little. "I'll go home and get my wings, and a scarf."

"Why your wings?"

"Just because I'm in the mood to wear wings today, Dreamer." He says giving me a reassuring squeeze.

He moves out of the embrace and looks me in the eyes. He smiles a little. Fly kisses me on the forehead. "I love you." He whispers.

"I love you too." I whisper back. "You should get going."

He breaks the embrace and walks out the door, Al not far behind. I take our dishes to the front tub and let some smurf wash them. Then I return to my home. I need some gloves if I'm going to pick Iceberries with Hefty_. Smurf. Hefty… maybe now I can get an answer about why he's been such a smurfhole lately_. I think. _Then again, maybe not_. Hefty can be about as over-sensitive as they come. I sigh a little. I wish I knew what's the matter with my brother…

I finally find my leather gloves. It's kind of cold out… I should take a scarf too. I think. Gosh. I hope Fly remembered his scarf before he left. He gets sick so easily.

I leave my house and lock the door. I put the key under the mat and start walking out past the smurfberry fields. Hefty is already in the fields plucking the light-light blue berries from the vines. I must've made some sort of noise to betray my position, because he suddenly jerks his head and looks at me. His once serious face melts into his normal haughty smile. "Heya, Dreamy!"

"Hi Hefty." I reply, pasting on a fake smile

I'd rather be anywhere but here. "How ya been, we uh- haven't really talked in awhile…" he asks, scratching the back of his head a little awkwardly.

"I've been just fine…" I half lie. "How about you? Still with Smurfette?"

He stops picking berries for a moment and looks at his feet. "No…"

I turn my attention from my berry picking and look at my brother. He and Smurfette have been together for ages- they have a kid together, for smurf's sake! What could've happened to smurf that relationship? "I'm sorry…" I say, honestly.

"It's ok," He says, returning his attention to the bush. "We didn't want Baby to see us arguing all the time…"

I look at the ground before continuing to pick berries. "It's not like he's gonna grow up without a dad, though." He adds, still sounding sad. "we've decided to switch out the weeks we take care of him."

"That's good…" I say. "Does Uncle Dreamy still get to see him too?"

Hefty smiles a little. "Heh, yeah, you're still allowed to see the little squeezer." He says. "My week starts tomorrow, if ya wanna stop by."

"Sure, why not." I reply, feeling a little better about my friendship with him.

For a while, we talk about idle things. About how cold it is, about how nice the summer was, about my insomnia, about every little thing that we can. It feels really good to talk with my brother again. I figure he's just been a smurfhole cause of the breakup. I can't say I blame him. Smurfs become very attached when they mate. It's unconditional, and it happens with regular and "alternative" couples. For the most part, smurfs mate for life. For the most part, only death can separate partners. I suppose there are exceptions, though.

Somewhere else in the forest, someone was tromping down the path. He is hunched over, his back sore from years of sleeping on a crummy mattress. His hair is mostly gone, thinned by stress and age. His robe is as black as his heart and his magic, and has patches and assorted stitches in random, somewhat illogical places. He carries a burlap sack and a butterfly net over his shoulder. A dusty red Abyssinian cat with golden colored eyes prowls behind him, his nicked ear twitching and moving like a satellite dish. "Azrael! Keep on the lookout for those smurfs!" The man yells in a gravelly voice.

His companion meows and hisses in reply. They continue down the path in their search for one thing, and one thing only. The creatures that are used in healing spells, alchemy rituals, and many assorted foods. The things he has sought after his whole life: Smurfs.

Two small voices in the brush alert him to their company. Smurfs! Azrael crouches low to the ground like a coiled spring, ready to pounce. The evil wizard readies his net. The cat at his feet twitches his tail like crazy and pounces on something through the brush, causing two a high- pitched eep noises. Success! Azrael has caught them!

Excitedly, the evil man walks around the bush. The big ruddy red cat has two creatures under his paws. One with a star- covered hat is screaming and yelling, terror filling his eyes with every passing half- second. The other one, one with wings, seems to have been knocked unconscious. The man shoos his feline companion away from the unconscious one. He examines the smurf's cerulean blue body. Seems as though it just about bashed its head on a rock when it fell. It's still breathing, but it is bleeding heavily from its head. Slowly, its eyes flutter open. Then they shoot open in pure terror. "GARGAMEL!" the smurf cries out.

The evil wizard, Gargamel takes his catches and stuffs them both in his bag. He then sits on a rock and takes two loaves of bread from his other sack. Decorating the bread with lettuce, tomatoes and cheese, he already knows what he's going to do with his catch.

I am the one who hears it first. Although I wish I'm not. "GARGAMEL!" The voice screams from down the path.

I recognize the voice immediately. Fly! He's in trouble! "C'mon, Hefty!" I shout, instinctively running towards the screams of my lover.

Another smurf that was nearby runs in the opposite village to get help. Hefty and I tear down through the path. All the terrible, unsmurfy things that could be happening to my love run through my head. Tears of fear already run down my cheeks. I HAVE to get there in time!

Hefty and I peek through a bush. Before we know what's happening, something traps us. It's Gargamel's butterfly net! We're trapped too! "Mwahahaha! You're too late, smurfs!" The evil wizard cackles sinisterly.

Immediately, Hefty grabs hold of the net, trying to rip it apart. The fibers of the net hold us fast. "MMMF! MRRRRGH! I can't break us free!" He grunts, beads of sweat dotting his forehead.

"Of COURSE not! That would ruin my smurf on wheat sandwich!" Gargamel says, spreading honey over Al and stuffing him in a roll.

I had never known Al very well. He's older than me, and we collaborate in different crowds. We spoke occasionally when we were paired on random chores and assignments. He seemed to be a kind, good-hearted, and slightly absent-minded individual. He absolutely does not deserve this terrible of a fate. The poor smurf looks positively terrified wrapped in the roll. "P-p-please! P-please spare me!" Alchemist begs, tears rolling down his face. "P-P-PAPA SMUUUUUUURRRF! PAPA SMURRRF!" He cries out for his master.

"Call as much as you want! Papa smurf will never come!" Gargamel cackles, bringing the roll to his mouth.

I will never recover from what I see. I doubt that Hefty will either. In less than two bites, Alchemist smurf is eaten. In sickening crunches, his bones are chewed, and swallowed. "Mmm, delicious!" Gargamel laughs evilly, wiping his face with a now red-spotted hanky. "Best sandwich I've had in YEARS!" He cackles, picking Al's starry hat out of his teeth and flicking it into the dust.

"Oh, God, Al… Poor, poor Al!" Hefty yells.

"I can't believe it!" I exclaim.

The two of us keep yelling for Papa smurf, hoping and praying he can hear us. My heart nearly stops as I see Gargamel fish a bloodied up Fly out of his burlap sack. He looks as though he has been bleeding heavily from his head. "Oh God… FLY!" shout, tears falling uncontrollably from my eyes.

Fly looks more scared than I've ever seen him before. He can barely hold his head up anymore. Tears fall heavily from his face. Gargamel slathers the bread with honey and stuffs him into it. "Oh, God, Fly, You've GOT to escape! You've GOT TO LIVE!" I shout, my voice cracking.

"I-I- I'm sorry, Love." He responds, looking at me with terror in his beautiful slate colored eyes. "He has me smurfed with honey."

I try and fight out of the net. I HAVE to save him! I HAVE TO! Before I can bust out of the netting, Gargamel opens his mouth and prepares to devour my lover. My heart just about stops. "Wait just a second, Gargamel!" Fly shouts defiantly, "Just cause Al couldn't say goodbye doesn't mean I don't wanna!"

Gargamel is taken aback by the defiant smurf. "If I let you eat me, than you must PROMISE to let Hefty and Dreamy go, or else!" Fly demands.

Gargamel cackles. "Mwahahaha! Or else WHAT, you miserable little smurf!"

"Or else I'll- I'll-" he stutters, "I'll keep my wings on and you'll take a big smurfy bite of wax and feathers!"

Gargamel cringes and wrinkles his face. "Yecch! Fine. But as soon as those wings are gone, your time is up!" He says putting the roll on a rock next to the net.

He strips the sandwich of the top bread and starts tugging on the honey stuck wings. "Don't worry, Dreamy." Fly says with a scared smile. "I'll- I'll be trading those wax wings for REAL wings soon."

I shake my head and snivel like a smurfling. "Oh, God, Fly you can't do this." I blubber, taking one of his sticky hands, "I- I- I NEED you!"

"No you don't, dearest," he says shaking his head weakly. "All you need is your dreams. Your lovely, smurfy dreams…"

He closes his eyes and smiles slightly. "Mmm… Your wonderful dreams… I'll miss those most of all…." He sighs, tears streaking down his own face.

He opens his eyes and looks at me right in the face. "I love you, Dreamer. Don't you EVER quit dreaming for me." He says, lower lip quivering as he draws jagged breaths.

I can't find the words to say. All I can do is shake my head and squeeze his hands. "Fly… Oh, Fly, No… I- I can't loose you…" my voice wobbles and catches in my throat.

"Are you two QUITE done? You're making me nauseous!" Gargamel growls.

"You evil smurfstard!" Hefty growls, shaking his fist and struggling against the net.

"Goodbye, Love. I- I-I'll always love you..." Fly sobs, kissing my knuckles and pressing it against his damp and bloody cheek.

Gargamel pulls my love away, forcing Fly to release my hands. "Fly…?" I whimper.

The evil wizard covers him up with the other slice of bread, hiding him from my sight. "Fly…?" I hiccup.

As the evil wizard slowly brings his meal to his mouth, Hefty turns me around and takes me in his arms, squeezing me tight. "Don't watch, Dreamy!" he sobs, his chest convulsing with every jagged breath. "It- it- it'll all be over soon…"

"FLYYYYYYYYYYY" I cry out, sobbing uncontrollably, my entire body quakes.

Hefty covers my ears, bawling as if he'd never shed tears before. My love… My Fly…. Oh God, he's GONE! I don't care if Gargamel eats me now… I DON'T CARE! "Gargamel!" I scarcely even hear the voice of Papa smurf. "You release those smurfs immediately!"

Gargamel's cackle is a blur. "Mwahahaha! Fat chance, Beardy! These smurfs are mine!"

Papa casts some kind of giant- spider illusion spell to scare away Gargamel. A horde of smurfs team up to flip over the heavy butterfly net. Hefty still clings to me, shaking and sobbing profusely. Papa smurf turns him so that he faces him, and puts his hands on his shoulders. "Hefty, you must calm down!" He tries comforting him, "It's over now. Gargamel's gone. Hefty. Hefty, look me in the eyes."

He does. "You must calm down. It's all right now."

Hefty sniffles a little, trying to swallow his tears. My wobbling knees finally give way, and I collapse, my entire body quaking as I sob. Papa gives him a warm hug, and then turns, kneeling down with me. "Dreamy, it's all right. Gargamel is gone now. He can't hurt you now that I'm here."

I can barely hear Papa's voice. "Fly… Oh God, Fly…" I sob, holding my head in my hands.

Papa smurf takes me in his arms, _shh_-ing and rocking back and forth gently. "_Shh, shh_… What about Fly? Where is he?" he says softly, rubbing my arms.

"Gargamel… H-he ATE Fly and Al…" Hefty stutters, disbelievingly.

"F-f-Flier and Alchemist?" Papa asks, shocked "Eaten?"

Hefty nods sadly, fighting more tears. "I- I can't believe it…" Papa smurf can barely whisper, tears forming in his eyes.

The rest of today rushes by like a whirlwind. A flood of condolences, apologies, hugs and tears. Dinner is mostly silent. Almost nobody except for Greedy eats. Hefty lets me stay at the house he shares with his best friend, Handy. I suppose they don't want me to be alone.

I should feel grateful that they're concerned. But I feel like all I want to do is be alone and cry it all out.

And when he finally lets me be by myself, that's what I do.

I cry until I run out of tears. Then cry more.


	10. Chapter 10 Icarus

Two long and agonizing days have passed since that day. The whole village's activities seem to have been halted. Tailor can barely keep his mind on his work. Handy's absentmindedly pounding nails into wood. Brainy smurf doesn't even have anything to say, for once. Today I have to smurf the impossible: I have to go to Fly's workshop and sort through his house.

I ask Nat, Hefty, Handy, and Papa to help. I just can't do this alone…. Fly's workshop is much more cluttered than the last time I was in here… random sketches and blueprints litter the walls. His books lay scattered around the workshop. Brainy might like these… I think. Of all the books about astronomy and mythology, I save one. It was one of his favorites… A book about Greek human myths and stories. I flip through the yellowing pages, slowly. One of the stories is marked by a red ribbon. A story about a human named Icarus. "What's that you have there, Dreamy?" Handy asks, carrying some of Fly's machinery.

"It's a human mythology book… Fly's favorite…" I mutter in reply. "He has this story marked. I wonder why?"

Handy takes a closer look at the print. "Icarus… I've heard of that… Papa smurf used to tell me that story when I was a smurfling." He says, taking the book and reading the text. "It was about 'Icarus, the son of the master craftsman Daedalus… Daedalus fashioned wings made of feathers and wax so he and his son could escape their exile in Crete. Overcome by the gaiety and novelty of flight, he flew too close to the sun, which melted the wax and he fell back to earth.' Sad tale, really."

"Wax wings…" I mutter. "Wax… Wings…"

My knees wobble. His final words torture my mind. _I'll be trading those wax wings for REAL wings soon_. Oh God…. I can't even stand anymore. Papa smurf notices my distress and puts an arm around me, easing me to the ground as I clutch the book to my chest. Papa rubs my shoulder as I cry over the book. _I miss Fly…. Dear GOD I miss him…_ _I've never felt so empty in my entire life…_ "Dreamy," Hefty says softly.

I look at him with bleary eyes. "I'm gonna ask Painter if he can add Fly and Al's names to my heart tattoos." He says, referring to his airbrushed arms. "And I was thinking maybe you could get one with Fly's name."

"That's a good idea" Nat says, putting his hand on my other shoulder. "Maybe both of us could get one."

"Ehhm- maybe in a few more years, Nat." Hefty says with a chuckle and a pat on his shoulder.

"Whaddya say, Dreamy? We can go talk to Painter about it when we're done" Handy suggests.

I shake my head. "No…" I say plainly.

Hefty and the others seem taken aback by my answer. "Why not?" Nat asks, confused. "Hefty's doin' it too."

"Cause someday they're gonna invent a tattoo that doesn't wash off in the rain. And when they do, that's when I'll get mine." I reply, bleary eyed.

The four of us continue cleaning out Fly's house and workshop until late into the night. Papa and Hefty walk me back to my home, carrying my small tokens to remember Fly. I unlock the door and let my family inside. They put their objects on the kitchen table and started walking out. "Are you sure you don't want us to stay?" Papa asks, "I can always have Alche- Brainy… watch the lab." He catches himself.

I shake my head and cross my arms a little. "N-no thank you, Papa smurf. I'm just going to have a glass of wine and go to bed." I say, faking a smile.

Sensing my desolation, Papa puts his arms around me and gives me a warm, fatherly hug. "Please come talk to me if you need it." Papa says softly, "You're not alone. Most everysmurf is having trouble coping right now…"

I nod. "Thank you, Papa smurf." I say weakly.

He leaves, and Hefty takes his place. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything, Dreamy…" he murmurs, hugging me tightly.

"It's okay, Hefty…" I say. "There was nothing we could do…"

He breaks the hug and gives me a knuckle bump on the shoulder. "Nite, Dreamy…" He says, still feeling numb.

"Night, Hef…" I reply.

I go back inside my home and take a wine glass from the cupboard. I take the half bottle of wine from our last night together. I sit at the table and pour myself a glass.

Then another.

Then another.

Then another.

Soon there's less than a glass of wine left in the bottle. At the edge of my mind, but not wanting to waste it, I pour myself the last glass and raise my glass. "Here's to you, Fly." I mutter, drinking the last glass just a bit too fast. My feet feel too heavy to move. I just slump over the table and sob.

I awake the next morning to hands on my shoulder and muffled voices. "Is he okay?" Nat.

"He must have drunk half a bottle of wine!" Brainy.

"We should get him to Papa smurf." Hefty.

"He dun' look so good…." Farmer.

"Ooh, I'll say! And he is gonna have one SMURFOFA smurfover later!" Vanity.

"Dreamy? Please wake up…" Nat.

As if my mind is detached from my body, I feel myself being picked up and carried like a smurfling. My brain wants to fight. It wants to get far away. But my body refuses to obey. I let them carry my boozed- up body through the village, much to the confusion of onlookers. Somesmurf pounds on a door, making my head throb. "Papa smurf! Papa Smuuuurrrrf!" Brainy.

The click of a lock. "Brainy! What's the matter?" Papa smurf.

"It's Dreamy, Papa! H- He won't wake up!" Nat.

"I suspect alcohol poisoning, Papa." Brainy. "There was an empty bottle of wine on the table next to him."

A heavy sigh. "Oh, Dreamy…." Papa smurf. "Quickly, get him inside. Put him on my bed."

I feel soft, comfortable bedding underneath me. "What's gon' happen, Papa smurf?" Farmer.

Bubbling of potions. Heavy sigh. "I don't know, Farmer. Dreamy may very well never wake up." Papa smurf.

Honestly, that doesn't sound like a bad idea right now… just be able to die and see my darling again…. I wonder what Heaven's like? Unfortunately for me, Papa smurf just won't allow it. In a matter of minutes, I feel someone open my mouth and force me to sit up. Someone tilts my head backwards, and someone else pours some sort of bitter-tasting potion down my throat. I sputter and cough as everyone and everything comes into focus.

I'm in Papa smurf's lab, lying on his bed. Nat, Brainy, Farmer, Vanity and Hefty and Lazy- I never heard anything from him. That's odd…-are all huddled around me in a concerned circle. "Welcome back." Brainy says, matter of factly. "How do you feel?"

"Terrible." I reply.

"Imaginably so." Papa smurf comments, sitting on the bed. "Boys, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to Dreamy alone."

Reluctantly, they all clear the room, casting me a concerned look on their way out. "You gave them all quite a scare, Dreamy." Papa says plainly.

Even though his voice betrayed nothing, his eyes told the story. He was falling apart inside. "Y-y-you're not in trouble, Dreamy." He says plainly. "And I'm not planning on punishing you for this"

This surprises me. "Y-you're not?"

"No, Dreamy," he says, with a small, sad smile and tears playing at his eyes, "But I need you to be honest with me. I need you to tell me what's in your heart right now."

I look down at the soft comforters. I subconsciously take one of the squishy goose-feather pillows from behind me and sit up, hugging the pillow. Where to begin…? "I was right there…." I say, my voice almost getting caught in my throat in memory of the terrible event. "I was RIGHT there… and I couldn't do a thing about it… And- and- and- he was so scared! And in so much pain…. I- I- Oh God…"I break down right here.

Papa smurf scooches so that he's sitting right next to me, holding me against his chest and rubbing my back softly. "I loved him, Papa." I say weakly, "he was the only smurf in the world that I told all of my secrets. He was the only smurf who would listen to my dreams and not roll their eyes, or interrupt, or put them down. H- He's the only one that doesn't call me a dreamer and mean it as an insult… Oh, God I miss him!"

My sobs become uncontrollable. Papa smurf continues to hold me, rocking a little as he rubs my back. "Shh… shh… I know… I know… We all miss them…" Papa coos softly. "My lab feels so empty without Alchemist…"

That's right. Al was Papa smurf's apprentice. The two of them were incredibly close… Al was like a son to Papa smurf- no strike that – he WAS a son. From what I've been told, Alchemist Smurf was a direct descendant to Papa smurf. "I-I-I'm sorry for all this, Papa…"I stutter, feebly. "I- I never meant to-"

He cuts me off with another shh noise. "It's okay… I understand… Just- please be more careful next time…" he says softly. "I don't want to lose another one of my children…"

I've run out of tears by now. I use the back of my hand to wipe away my tears. "We're having a memorial service for Alchemist and Flier day after tomorrow." He says softly, "It would mean the world to him if you at least came."

"I'll- I'll- I'll do one better…" I smile weakly. "I'll- I'll see if I can't put together a eulogy."

"That sounds very smurfy, Dreamy." Papa replys, returning the smile. "Fly will be happy."

Today is another whirl of activity and mourning. Not having to do any chores today due to the extenuating circumstances, I wander aimlessly around the village. Most everyone already seems to be feeling a little better. Smurfette is watering her lovely garden. Tailor is still half-heartedly sewing. Handy is still making- something- mostly subconsciously. I peek into his workshop to see what it is. What I see stabs me like a pike to the chest. Caskets. Two smurf-sized caskets. I swallow my tears and keep wandering through the village. There's a loud commotion over in Painter's house. Curious as to what set off the temperamental artist, I look through his window. To my shock I see Painter crying and throwing his canvases against the wall. His precious masterpieces! He loves his art! How could he do something like that?

His temperament changes again when he sets his sight on two blurry canvases that were in the far corner of his studio. He clutches them both, falling to his knees and sobbing like a smurfling. "Ah… Ah… Ah must feenesh zees two… For- for- for monsieur Fliar and monsieur Alchemeest…." He says, in-between sobs.

I leave the sobbing artist to mix his paints and work on his "masterpizzas". Somehow, it just doesn't feel like the sort of thing to be watching… not that I can find anything less depressing. Even Clumsy can't find a cheery thing to say.

I knock on Hefty's door. Maybe a visit with my nephew will be enough to smurf my spirits a little. My tough-guy brother answers the door, evidence he's been crying engraved in his features. "Hey, Dreamy." He says, trying to fake a smile. "How you holding up?"

"Little better" I lie. "Thought some time with my favorite nephew would do me good."

Hefty nods, inviting me in. in the living room, next to the couch, a gurgling, giggling baby smurfling is stacking blocks. Just the sight of it makes me smile a little. Noticing me coming, Baby turns his head and bounces in place, cooing and flapping his arms a little. "Heyyy. Hey there, little guy." I coo, whatever sadness was left in Fly's place dissipated for a short while.

The infant smurf burbles in reply, raising his arms and making little 'mmf! Mmf!' noises. He wants up. I quickly oblige, scooping him up and bringing him close to my face. He squeals in delight as his chubby baby hands grab any bodily part that is within his reach and interest. Baby's beautiful innocence lifts my spirits. How this little being just lost a member of his family, and yet can still find beauty and love in little things… "Ga-ga-Gagamel!" The baby squeals, visually proud of his first word.

I bite my tongue. "Yeah, Gargamel's a bad man, huh?" I lament with the infant.

Baby makes little baby noises in agreement. I sit on the couch and bounce him on my knee a little. The little tyke giggles and squeals like crazy. "He still has to have lunch," Hefty calls from the kitchen, heating something over the stove. "You wanna give him his bottle?"

"Sure." I reply with a smile.

Hefty brings me a warmed bottle of formula. I balance Baby on my lap, giving him the bottle and letting him suckle. "Wow!" I coo softly, "Someone's gonna be a big eater like his daddy."

Hefty chuckles a little. About three- quarters of the way through the bottle, baby stops suckling and pushes the nipple of the bottle out of his mouth with his tiny tongue. He gives a big, hearty yawn and puts his finger in his mouth. "My, my. You were hungry, little guy!" I coo, picking him up and putting his head over my shoulder.

I pat his back softly until I hear a little baby burp. "Oh, yep, you're defiantly your father's child." I laugh a little.

God, it feels good to laugh.

"_You might not want to do that, Fly. He just ate." Hefty warned._

"_Oh, Hefty, I've got it all under-" Fly replied, still gently tossing Baby over his head and catching him._

_Baby barfed on his back. "Hahahahahaha! I guess you've learned your lesson!" I laughed._

_Fly wiped the baby barf off his back and Baby's mouth. "Ha-ha, I guess so." He said smiling, laughing at himself. _

God. I remember. It brings small tears to my eyes. Baby looks at me and cocks his head a little. With his thumb in his mouth, he uses his other hand to tap my cheek. It's as if he's trying to tell me not to cry. I pull myself together and smile at his noble efforts. I give Baby a reassuring nuzzle on the cheek. The little infant nuzzle me back, snuggling on my chest and yawning quietly and covering his eyes. Actually, a nap doesn't sound too bad… I haven't had a decent nights sleep in awhile now. Careful not to wake Baby, I recline a little on Hefty's couch. Before I drift off into sleep, I see a quick flash of light and hear a mechanical sound. I open my eye to see Hefty standing there with a camera, waving a square of film in his other hand. "Oh, don't tell me you just smurfed me on candid camera!" I laugh a little.

He smiles smugly. "Well, I wanted a decent picture of Baby and his uncle Dreamy. And you hate having your picture smurfed. What'd you expect me to do?" he explains himself

I roll my eyes and try falling asleep unsuccessfully. Baby mutters baby talk in his sleep, and snuggles close to me. His little smurf eyebrows are furrowed in almost a pout and his lip curls. It's as if he's having a really, really bad dream. I try calming him by stroking his back, like Papa smurf does. It seems to work. His muttering subsides and his face relaxes. He looks like such a little angel when he sleeps…

Angel. Just like Fly… I try not to cry thinking about it. I miss him so much… "Thinking about Fly, huh?" Hefty asks quietly, so he doesn't wake Baby.

I nod. I guess our twin-connection's finally kicked in again. "I just can't believe he's really gone…" I whisper. "It feels like he was there one minute, and then just like that he left my life… and with him went all the light in the world…"

Just thinking of that day brings tears to my eyes. "Great. Just when I think I've run out." I mumble sarcastically, trying to blink them back. "I feel like such a cry-smurfling…"

"Don't. I feel your pain…" Hefty says, patting my shoulder reassuringly.

He sighs a little. "I can't get their faces out of my mind…" he admits, curling his lips, obviously fighting tears. "I haven't slept in almost 4 days now…Every time I close my eyes that scene replays itself…Smurfit… It's torture…"

He wipes his eyes, clearing them of impending tears. "I just wish this memorial would bring us all some closure…"

The memorial… I should go home and work on my eulogy. Careful not to wake him, I give Baby to Hefty. "I- I should go home…" I say, thinking of the task I have at hand. "I have to write Fly's eulogy."

Hefty nods knowingly. "Go easy on the wine, okay?" he says with a crooked half smile.

I nod "I will…." I reply.

I return to my home and try to write. There is a big, black piano sitting caddy corner to the kitchen. A little confused, I walk over to it and read the attached note.

Dreamy,

Thought maybe a little music would brighten your day in this dark time.

Your friend,

Harmony smurf.

I am fairly good on the piano. And this is a very lovely baby grand. Perhaps some music would brighten my day. I sit at the stand, preparing for a chord. As soon as I bring my fingers to the ivory it produces a sour sound. Confused, I check my fingering. I'm playing the right chord I wanted to. Why isn't it working? Then I remember. This is one of Harmony's Pianos. The smurf's so tone-deaf whole cemeteries full of composers roll over in their graves. I give a little sigh and close the keyboard. Then I take a seat at the kitchen table and try to write. Nothing seems to work. Everything I write reads like mush. I can't even seem to think of what I want to say. I rest my head on the kitchen table smoothing my hair out of my face. In front of me there's an empty wine glass, its little droplets collected in the center. A glass or two sounds really good right now… I get a clean glass from the cupboard and open a new bottle. I pour myself a glass. After two or three glasses, I start really feeling its numbing effects. After glass number five the room starts spinning like a top. At five and a half, I'm out cold again still none the wiser about what to write for Fly.

I awake in the morning to a single hand shaking my shoulder and a single muffled voice. "Dreamy? Dreamy? Wake up, Dreamy." it says, sounding tired and anxious. "Oh, not again."

I recognize the voice. "P-papa smurf?" I half- whisper

"Oh, thank goodness." The voice sighs. "I thought you'd blacked out again."

I didn't have the heart to tell him I did. "No… Just- fell asleep at the table trying to write…" I lie, rubbing my sore temples.

He sees the open bottle of wine on the table and gives a heavy sigh, corking it and taking the glasses on the table to the sink. "I'll just leave them in the sink." He says, gloom dripping from his words.

I nod my head in thanks. He takes a seat next to me and angles his chair to face me. "I see Harmony gave you a new piano." He says taking notice of the baby grand, "Maybe you'd feel better if you played something?"

"It's terribly out of tune." I say, resting my head on my arms. "Besides… Fly didn't much like smurf piano music. He's always said it's too upbeat."

"Here, I have an enchantment to tune it." Papa says, muttering a few magic words over the piano. "What about the music in your dreams? Perhaps you could play one of those."

I shrug my shoulder. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. I walk to the stand and take a seat. I close my eyes to try and remember the chords and notes to one I really liked…. Slowly, I put my fingers on the ivory keys.

In slowed down 4/4 time in the D key, I play the chords in my head.

'_Imagine there's no heaven._

_It's easy if you try._

_No Hell below us._

_Above us only sky_

_Imagine all the people living for today…._

I pause, taking a second to clear my throat, and continue.

_Imagine there's no countries. _

_It isn't hard to do._

_Nothing to kill or die for._

_And no religion too._

_Imagine all the people living life in peace_

I pause again to wipe my eyes, and play on.

_You may say _

_I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one._

_I hope some day you'll join us…_

_And the world will be as one.'_

I can't play anymore. My entire body starts shivering, so I rest my head on the keys and hug myself for warmth. Papa smurf sits on the bench next to me, rubbing my back with a reassuring hand. "That was very smurfy, Dreamy." He says.

"Thank you, Papa smurf…" I mutter in reply.

Somehow, during the day I manage to put my thoughts into words and create a eulogy. Once it is all written up, I crawl into bed and try and sleep. To no avail. It seems like in order to sleep these days I have to black out. But if I black out, I could miss the memorial. So I guess it'll just be another sleepless night….

It wouldn't be sleepless if I had Fly here….


	11. Chapter 11 Closure

Ignore my terrible poetry writing ^^; A writer, I am. a poet i am NOT XD

song: Arms of an Angel- Sarah McLaughlin 3

* * *

><p>Papa smurf is awake late tonight. He is exhausting his library, searching for something to help his little smurf. Having no success so far, he rests his head for a moment. Sighing deeply, he wondered, <em>Perhaps if I hadn't tuned him out so much… perhaps then I would have noticed something was wrong long before now…<em>

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. "Yes, come in." The devoted papa calls.

It is Hefty smurf at the door. "Papa smurf, I know it's late," He sheepishly admits, "But I can't sleep, and something's been bothering me…"

"Ah, yes, here, take a seat, we'll talk." Papa smurf says, grateful for the break for his eyes.

He sits across from Hefty, smiling his warm, loving smile. "How can I help you tonight, Hefty?" he asks.

Hefty shifts in his chair uncomfortably. "Well… It's not me, see. I wanted to talk to you about Dreamy…."

Papa smurf tilted his head a little. "Yes… what about Dreamy?" he asks.

Hefty shifts again, looking at his feet. "Something's not right with him, Papa smurf…" he says plainly. "It feels like every time I ask him if he's okay, he ducks behind a mask and lies to my face… Ever since…."he pauses. "…that day…. And, - no, since before then, actually, I just get a weird feeling that he's like- an empty shell…"

Now Papa shifts and tilts his head, "What do you mean by that, Hefty?"

"Well… like Dreamy himself is walking around, smiling and living life, but he's like a cicada husk stuck to a tree…." Hefty tries to explain, "It's body is still there, but the being inside it died a long time ago."

Hefty bites his lower lip. "I'm scared, Papa smurf. Dreamy seems like he's just- dying inside, and I don't even know how to help…"he says, looking at his feet.

Papa smurf reaches across from his chair and pats Hefty on the shoulder. "Hefty, you're helping him right now." He says with a smile. "By coming to me and talking about it, you're helping me find out why he feels like this. You're doing a good thing here, and it may save Dreamy's life.

Hefty swallows hard. "R-really?" he asks.

"Of course you are, Hefty." Papa smurf says, still smiling. "You're doing a VERY smurfy thing, and I'm very proud of you for having the courage to step forward and come talk to me."

Hefty smiles a little, feeling a great weight lifted off his back. "Thank you, Papa smurf." He says.

"Of course, Hefty. Now, you should try to get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow…" Papa smurf says, ushering him to the door.

* * *

><p>As I predicted last night, I didn't smurf a wink of sleep. I force myself out of bed, stretching my back and neck. I look at myself in the mirror on top of my dresser. Dark, deep circles ring my eyes. I look at my body. I look thin and pale, so unhealthy…I look like- well, like death…No wonder everyone's been so worried. I'll address those issues later. I want to look decent for my lover's funeral.<p>

I brush my teeth and comb my hair. I look through my dresser drawers. My black slacks look a little big, but I'll just wear a belt… I put them on and smurf a belt so they stay up. Then I go back to rifling through my drawers looking for the rest of my formalwear. I find my black hat and my tie. I fumble with my tie. I've never been any good at tying these stupid things… A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. "Come in" I call.

Hefty opens the door, carrying Baby with his other arm. "Hey, Dreamy" he says solemnly. "You ready?"

I continue fighting with my tie. "Yeah. Just as soon as this smurfin' tie ties!"

"Oh, come here," he says with a slight sigh. "I swear, you'd be lost without me."

Hefty puts Baby on my bed and starts to tie my tie. "There. Now, c'mon, were gonna be late…" He says.

I pick up Baby from my bed. "Yeah. Let's go."

The funeral is held in the village square. There are no happy songs playing in the village today. All of its usual activity and merriment has changed to sadness and mourning. Hefty, Baby and I take as seat in the first row next to Vanity, Farmer and Nat and Lazy. In front of us, there is a podium in the center and the two caskets on either side. Papa smurf stands at the podium, waiting for the other smurfs to find their seats and settle. Once it seems that everysmurf has found a seat, Papa smurf clears his throat to speak. "My dear little smurfs we are gathered here today to celebrate the lives of two noble smurfs… Alchemist and Flier, better known by their friends as Al and Fly…"

Some of the smurfs in the crowd hang their heads at the very mention of the names. "Alchemist Smurf…. My, I can't even begin to tell you all how much I miss him…"Papa smurf closes his eyes, remembering his fallen son, "My lab- it seems so empty without the rustle of papers, and the scratch of a pen scrawling a loophole to the Law of Equivalent Exchange… Besides being my most dutiful apprentice, and my firstborn son, Al was… Well, my friend… the two of us would sit in the lab and brew potions and talk for hours on end…"

He pauses to wipe his eyes. "Until my dying day I'll regret asking them to smurf me more Wormroot and Witches Hazel."

Brainy smurf takes Papa smurf's place behind the podium. "Alchemist smurf was like a brother to me…" He says, matter of factly, "He'd always try and help me learn a new spell, and he'd almost always listen to what I had to say…"

Brainy looks down at the ground "He really didn't deserve this fate… It should've been me… If I hadn't begged Papa smurf to teach me that new spell… then- then maybe- oh God…" he starts crying enough that he can't seem to talk, for once.

Papa smurf pats him on the back reassuringly. Brainy lifts his bulbous glasses and wipes his eyes. "My point smurfing," he says, adjusting his gargantuan spectacles. "I am proud, happy, and blessed, to have known Alchemist smurf. And If I could, I would do anything to trade places with him."

Poet replaces Brainy behind the podium. "I wrote a poem to Fly and Al. Here is '_An Ode to Alchemist_':

_A knowing gaze, a starry hat_

_Mixing potions just like that_

_Alchemist smurf, he loves all that can love in return_

_As well as all those that can't_

_He helped those who couldn't help themselves_

_Any wounded birds, and trapped elves._

_Known by many, loved by all_

_Need a spell, you know who to call_

_Conscious of any friend in need_

_He'd have your back, that's guaranteed._

_Al has left our sight, but not our hearts_

_He is in every tree, every rock, every sparkling quartz_

_There will be more smurfs in our little family_

_But none quite as Smurfy as Al would be"_

He wipes his eyes and shuffles some papers around. "And next I have '_An Ode to Fly':_

_Anysmurf knows that wax wings can't make you fly._

_But our Fly wanted to prove us all wrong, he would take to the sky_

_Fly was a friend to those who needed one, and to those who didn't try_

_He loved life simply because he was alive,_

_Nothing could deter him from his dreams- he had the will to survive!_

_Unique by nature, inspiring by name_

_His heart was hot and powerful like a flickering flame_

_Fly was restricted here on earth. Now his dreams can take wing._

_But while we are blind to him now, with our hearts we can see_

_He is never truly gone from our smurfy family."_

Poet wipes his eyes and lets Painter replace him behind the podium. He carries two easels with tarps over them. "Zees are mai mastairpizzas. Ah call zees-" He uncovers the easel on the left first. "Alchemeest at work!"

It was a fantastic depiction of Alchemist casting a spell with an alchemy transmutation circle. It was rendered in dark blues and light greens, simply beaming with fantasy and wonder. "Oui, Alchemeest and Ah, we were close… Ah was planning on giving him zees for hees smurfday… now, I'll nevair have ze chance…"

He shakes his head, and swallows his sorrows. Then he turns to his other 'mastairpizza' "Ah call zees-" he uncovers the remaining portrait. "Icarus een Flait!"

_Fliat?_ I wonder. _Ohh, FLIGHT_. The painting depicts a smurf with angel wings flying above a swelling sea, his wings stretched above him and his head is tilted back. "Fly told me ze story of Icarus one day, and he eenspiared me to paint ze mastairpizza… Ah only weesh he could see ze finished product…"

"Those are very smurfy, Painter. Thank you for showing them to us." Papa smurf says, retuning to the podium. "Now we turn our attention more to Flier smurf."

He takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes. "Fly… He- He wanted to fly among the clouds more than anything in the entire world… He wanted to soar among the birds in the air, flying so far above the world…but all his friends kept him grounded here… Fly, maybe someday smurfs WILL fly… maybe someday there will be smurfs that fly to faraway places, smurfing new sights, meeting new people… but today, one smurf traded his wax wings for angel's wings."

Papa smurf wipes his tears away. "Anysmurf who wants to can say something about Fly as well."

Vanity steps up to the podium. "Fly gave me the courage to be true to who I am. For that, I will be eternally grateful…." He says, clasping a hand over his heart, his chin and lower lip quivering. "Fly helped me be comfortable with who I was meant to be…. I will always hold him dear in my heart."

Nat steps in front of the pedestal since he's too short to stand behind it "Fly always took care of me." He says, fighting tears. "I've known him as long as I can remember… It's so hard to talk about him like this, here, now…"

Seeing that no one else knew exactly what to say, I take a deep breath and stand. The few apples to the podium feel more like miles. I muster up all my courage and take a deep breath. "Fly…. Oh God, I miss Fly…. My house- it feels so empty without his presence… if you look in my kitchen, you'll see I still haven't washed the wine glass he used on the last night we were together…. Everything in my house is exactly the way he left it…" I fight the tears that burn behind my eyes and take another deep breath. "My brother, Hefty, added the names of our departed friends to his airbrushed heart tattoos… he suggested I get Fly's name. much to his surprise, I said no… when he asked why, I said-"

My voice catches in my throat. "I said, 'because someday they'll make a tattoo that won't erase in the rain. I'll get mine when it can never go away' coz it's like my love for Flier- permanent. Everlasting. Eternal. It's true he traded his wax wings for angel wings."

I can't fight the tears any longer. "B-but he's still here. He's always gonna be in my heart, and in EVERYSMURF'S heart."

I try my hardest to pull myself together. "And when that permanent tattoo is not just a dream, that's where I'll put Flier's name." I point to my heart. "Right here. Over my heart. Because he will always be in my heart, and the tattoo will remind everyone of that fact."

The tears fall like rain. Hefty tries to help me back to my seat, but I shake my head. I'm not done yet. "This was a song I heard in one of my dreams… It- I thought it was appropriate for the time and place…" I add.

I walk to the nearby piano and place my fingers according to the chords in my head.

Slowly, I find the courage to play the chords that sing in my dream.

'_Spend all your time waiting for that second chance_

_For the break that will make it ok_

_There's always some reason to feel "not good enough"_

_And it's hard at the end of the day_

_I need some distraction, oh beautiful release_

_Memories seep from my veins_

_They may be empty and weightless and maybe_

_I'll find some peace tonight._

Key change….

_In the arms of an angel, fly away from here_

_From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear_

_You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie_

_You're in the arms of an angel; may you find some comfort here._

Back to beginning…

_So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn_

_There's vultures and thieves at your back_

_The storm keeps on twisting, you keep building the lies_

_That you make up for all that you lack_

_It don't make no difference, escaping one last time_

_It's easier to believe_

_In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness_

_That brings me to my knees_

Another key change….

_In the arms of an angel, fly away from here_

_From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear_

_You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie_

_You're in the arms of an angel…_

_May you find…._

_Some comfort here….._'

Upon the finishing notes, Hefty helps me back to my seat, letting me sob on his shoulder as he rubs my back reassuringly. Papa smurf closes the memorial with a quick prayer, and we carry the empty caskets to their shallow graves. I suppose they don't need to be that deep since all we can bury is their hats... After the funeral, I am approached by Smurfette, Nat, Handy and Papa smurf. Smurfette and I were never really all that close, but nevertheless, she gives me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so sorry about Fly…" she says, sorrow in her lovely blue eyes. "We've lost an amazing smurf…"

I nod and mouth a thank you. "Dreamy…" Handy says putting a hand on my shoulder. "A few of us were going to go over by Farmer's garden in a little while and talk about what happened… we were wondering if you wanted to join us…"

I fake a smile and shake my head. "No thanks, Handy…" I reply, "I- I- I don't ever want to relive that day… not in a million-smurfillion years… Just talking about it reminds me of his scared face…"

I look down and swallow the lump in my throat. "Please, Dreamy? It might be good for you to get some closure." Smurfette tries convincing me.

"Isn't that what this memorial was for? I don't feel much closure." I grumble back. I realize the unintentional hostility in my voice and find a reason to escape.. "I- I'm going back to my house. I- I need some time alone right now…"

My head hung, I slowly shuffle back to my home. I unlock the door, kick off my shoes and sit at the kitchen table. Without Fly, what am I gonna do…? He was one of the only things that made life worth living to me… I stand and go to the cupboard. Maybe some more wine would make me numb… I cant stand this dull ache in my heart…

I get the bottle from my cupboard and pour myself a large glass. After the second glass, I do feel numb. I finally feel like the pain in my heart is gone. Until I see the book I got from Fly's house, and the pain comes rushing back to me at full force. I pour myself another glass, tears blurring my vision. Right after I take a drink, I hear a knock on the door. Panicking for a minute, I cork the wine and hide it in the cupboard. Then I stumble to the door. I open the door to find Nat, Lazy, Hefty, Vanity, Farmer and Papa smurf. "Guys? W- What're you all doin here?" I slur my words a bit.

"Dreamy, we'd like to talk to you. May we come in?" Papa smurf asks.

Smurfit… I can't say no to Papa smurf… "Y-yeah, c'mon in" I say, stumbling to the kitchen table and taking another drink of wine.

My friends pull up chairs and sit on the couch, and sit wherever they can find room. "So, eh- what's this all 'bout?" I ask, swirling my glass.

Nat pipes up first. "Dreamy… We're your friends, right?" he asks.

"Tha's a dumb question to ask. Of course you're my friends." I reply, taking a sip.

"Well then… as your friends, we'd like to talk to you about how you've been acting for the last couple of weeks…" Lazy says, more awake than I've ever seen him.

I defensively shift in my chair. "There's nothing to talk about." I state simply.

"Cut the smurf, Dreamy." Hefty says bluntly. "We know something's not right with you."

"You've lost so much weight, shugah… Yo' scarin' us…" Farmer says, worriedly. "We jus' wanna help…"

"There's nothing to help." I lie. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Dreamy… I've been doing some reading, and we think that you may have depression." Papa smurf says, patting my knee.

_Of course I'm depressed. I have been for years and you're only just now picking up on it?_ "Oh, you guys," I roll my eyes, resting my head on the back of my chair with a buzzed smile, "You're way too overly sensitive. I'm FINE."

Nobody in the room is convinced. "Dreamy… Sometimes loosing a loved one can make you depressed… I know that. I couldn't look at my reflection for a whole day, and I was feeling so LOST…" Vanity says, sneaking a quick peek at himself. "Perhaps losing Fly is the catalyst for all this self destructive behavior…"

"Woah, woah, woah. What're you talking about, _'self destructive behavior'_?" I stop him.

"Well, besides the fact that you've drunken yourself unconscious TWICE now," Hefty scoffs, "You're cutting yourself off from the world, you're not eating properly... you're just smurfing yourself, AND us."

I can't look my friends in the faces. "I'm NOT cutting myself off from the world…" I mumble, "I don't need any help. I just need some time to heal. That's it. If it makes you all feel better, I'll go to that stupid closure thing later…" I mumble.

Ok, I'm done with this intervention thing now. I stand from my seat and stumble back to the cupboard and get the bottle of wine from its hiding place. I feel somesmurf's hand over mine. "I think you've had enough, Dreamy." Hefty's take-charge voice speaks.

"Smurf off, Hef." I mutter, shaking his hand off.

He doesn't stop there. He tries to take the bottle away from me. "I SAID 'I think you've had enough'! Let go!" He says, louder and more forcefully.

I swat his hand away and hide the bottle from him. "Leave me ALONE!" I yell.

"Dreamy, we're just trying to help." Vanity says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I don't want any help. I don't NEED any help!" I snap back, walking out my front door, slamming the door behind me.

I just wander for a short while, drunk, depressed, and not knowing where I ought to go. Eventually, my wandering leads me to Fly's grave. I fall to my knees. I adjust myself so I lay in the snow in front of the tombstone, on my side, like how we used to sleep together. I put my hand on the tombstone. "Hey, baby." I say, weakly "I miss you… I miss you more that I can ever say…"

Tears start bubbling from my eyes. "Life's been pretty hard since you've been gone…" I cry, feeling the engravings on the tombstone. "I haven't smurfed a decent night's sleep since that day… it feels like the only way I can fall asleep is when I drink… and now I'm even cutting myself off from my friends… I wish you were here…"

I hear a rustle in the brush. I sit up, ready to run if I have to. Out of the bushes emerges Hefty. I breathe a deep sigh. "What do you want, Hefty?" I ask, putting the bottle next to me and leaning against the headstone.

"I just wanna talk." He says, walking over and sitting down next to me. "Y'know, they're all looking for ya."

"Yeah, I figured…" I sigh.

"Looks like our 'twin telepathy' thing still works" Hefty jokes a little. "I knew right where to find ya."

"Yeah… Guess so." I smile a little.

Things were silent between us for a minute or two. "I guess I already know what you wanna talk about…" I say, fingering the bottle next to me.

"Hey, we are connected." He jokes. "Yeah… I- I just- wanted you to know that I'll always be there for you, and you can talk to me…."

I sigh a little. "I know that, Hef…" I say, still fingering the bottle. "But the wine… it- it makes me feel better… It takes away all that pain…"

"I know it's hard right now, Dreamy." Hefty says, putting his hand on my shoulder. "But please, there's better ways to heal…"

He moves me so that my head is on his shoulder. "I don't wanna wake up one day and find out my baby brother drank himself to death." He murmurs softly.

I look at the bottle in my hand. I uncork it, and take one big drink. Hefty sighs heavily. Then, much to his surprise. I turn to the smurfberry bush next to him and pour out what's left in the bottle. He turns to me and smiles, giving me a squeeze and a brotherly kiss on the temple. "Thank you, Dreamy."

I go home, not wanting to be seen in my current inebriated sate. And for once, I can fall asleep and dream…


	12. Chapter 12 Visions

12 Normal?

I awake the next morning, my head abuzz with dreams. "Oh, my! What wonderful dreams! I can't wait to tell Fl-" I catch myself.

Fly's gone. Now I can only tell my dream journal my dreams again… I scrawl out all of my dreams, then hurry to breakfast, feeling a little happier and hungrier than I have in the longest time.

Papa smurf stops me at the door. "Ah, good morning, Dreamy! How did you sleep?" he speaks.

"Very well, Papa Smurf! I had the smurfiest dream last night! There was a machine that you pushed a button, and-"

"Ah, good, good, Dreamy" Papa says, not even listening to my whole thought. "Have you seen Hefty this morning?"

I shake my head, and the feeling of being ignored, and answer. "No, I haven't. Haven't smurfed him since yesterday." I say, half-heartedly. "Now about that dream-"

"Ah, yes, I suppose he's still out on his morning run." Papa smurf says, mainly to himself.

It's as if he refuses to break from the script today. "And Dreamy? Would you mind smurfing Clumsy a hand with the Iceberry harvest today?" he asks.

I clench my teeth, feeling completely ignored. "Sure thing, Papa smurf."

He twirls his beard and mumbles empty words of thanks. I wonder if I should even bother mentioning my dreams anymore… "Oh, and Dreamy?" he says.

Inside, I scream a little. I already know what he's gonna say. But that doesn't make it sting any less. "Please get your head out of the clouds today. We need your help with the harvest if we're going to make it through the rest of the winter."

I wince a little at his words. "I-I'll try, Papa smurf…" I reply dryly.

Oh well. Maybe Nat and Lazy will want to hear what I have to say for once. "Hiya guys!" I smile, taking my usual seat next to Lazy.

"Hiya, Dreamy." Nat says with a smile. "Didja have any dreams?"

"Oh, yeah, so many smurfy dreams!" I say excitedly, my smile as wide as the moon. "There was a big machine, where when you press a button you can choose what music you want, and-and-and-and there's a flying machine that goes all the way to the moon- OH! And- and- and- there's a gigantic, metal train thing that goes up and down, and even in loop-de-loops, and-"

Never fails. "Whaaaat? Loop-de-loop! That sounds so scary! Who in their smurfy mind would wanna create something like that?" Nat asks, leaning forward towards me.

Lazy yawns loudly "Yeah, Dreamy. No one would wanna ride something like that. Why in the world would anyone want to smurf up something scary like that?"

My heart sinks into my chest. I was actually really excited about my loop-de-looping train… I stand and clear my plates, bringing them to the tub up front. No one even seems to care about how they trample my dreams like that… I leave the mess hall, walking towards the Iceberry fields. Along the way, I see Hefty chopping firewood. Hey! He's a thrill seeker! Maybe he'll get a kick out of my loop-de-looping train idea! "Hiya Hefty!" I call.

He looks up from the firewood he's chopping and waves a little. "Heya, Dreamy! Feelin' better about life?" He asks, readying his axe again.

My heart sinks with the truth. _No, not really_. "Yeah, I guess." I lie. "Anyways, I had the smurfiest dream last night! There was a-"

"That's great, Dreamy. Can you go find Handy for me?" He says bringing his axe down on a block of wood.

My heart sinks into my stomach. "Yeah, sure." I mutter, still walking.

I walk a little ways down the road to Handy's workshop. "Hey, Handy. Hefty's lookin for you." I say, dryly.

"Thanks, Dreamy." He says, only half regarding me.

Something on Handy's workbench catches my eye. It's a silver- colored letter opener, glinting in the morning sunlight. It looks so sharp… I wonder how easy it'd be to- "Anything else I can help you with, Dreamy?" Handy interrupts my thoughts.

"Oh! No, sorry. I just got distracted." I say, walking away. "See you."

I walk to the Iceberry fields, where Clumsy is already picking the light blue berries and humming happily. He's such a simple mind… I wish I could be so lucky. No matter how convincing of an act I put on, I still feel depressed… I wish I could be with Fly… I wish it with all my heart…

I keep picking berries, trying to take my mind off that terrible day… suddenly I am enveloped in a bright white light. My mind feels detached from my body as I am showed a hundred different visions at the same time. My body convulses as if I'm being electrocuted. _Smurfit!_ My mind screams, _Am I dying? Is this what death feels like?_

The visions finally slow down so I can interpret them… not that I really wanted to. All of these visions depict death and destruction in the village… every single smurf meeting a terrible end in the jaws of some terrible monster, plunging everything around me into total darkness. But then, out of the shadows a bright white light flashes. From the light descends a beautiful human woman. She is tall, even by a smurf's standard. If I am three apples high, then she had to have been more like twelve to fifteen apples high- that's tall even by human's measure! Her dark hair cascades in dark, dark brown waves down her back. Her robes are whiter than a smurf's hat, looking as though they are made of the most expensive fabrics and cottons in the entire universe. She wears sandals over her delicate feet, and over her thin hands and wrists bandages and cloths are wrapped. Her face is more lovely and gentle than any of that I've ever smurfed with my own two eyes, gentle features on a lovely oval shaped face. What stands out most about her is her wings. From just behind her shoulder blades two large pure white wings are a part of her lovely body. Her wings stretch far past her outstretched fingertips, and resemble those of an owl or an eagle. Then it occurs to me. I am in the presence of an angel! Feeling humbled by her appearance, I stoop to my knees. "Rise, Dreamy. Do not feel ashamed." She speaks in a mellifluous voice that makes me melt inside.

"I am the Angel of Mercy. I have come to show you what could happen in the future." She speaks, gesturing to the terrible maw in the vision.

"What can be done to prevent it, your grace?" I ask, not sure how to address her.

"You must warn your fellow smurfs. Make it known to all of them that they could be in great and terrible danger. But also tell them that help is on the way. Soon I shall walk among you in the body of a young woman, or smurfette as you little smurfs charmingly call them. She will not know of me, but I will be there. And when the time comes, our powers will unite and your village- and the rest of the natural world- shall be saved." She says, placing her delicate hand over my shoulder.

I hang my head. "But your grace… The other smurfs, they won't listen to me." I say, feeling very ashamed. "They do not listen to dreamers like me."

"You were chosen to hear this because you ARE a dreamer." She says with a faint smile. "If they do not listen, then you must make yourself heard."

All around me, the visions start to fade away. "W-wait! D-don't go!" I call to her as she fades away as well.

"Make your words heard, Dreamer." Her final words to me repeat over and over.

All of the sudden, the white light is gone, and I am lying on the ground face up. "Ga-lly! You okay, Dreameh?" I hear the bumpkin-voiced Clumsy ask, looking at me in the face.

My throat feels dry, as if I've gone through death and come back. "Wh… what happened?" I ask hoarsely.

"Gawsh, Ah dunno! You were fine one minute, then th' next you were on th' ground, shiverin' and shakin' liak there was no tomorruh!" Clumsy says, concern in his voice.

I realize I must stand up. I must go tell the village! Slowly but surely, I stand, wobbly at first, and start running to the village. The first smurfs I see are Handy, Vanity and Farmer. Like something possessed, I run to them, babbling at first before I gather my thoughts. "I- I- I just had a dream!" I say breathing heavily from the run, "There's a beautiful angel, and- and- and- and she's coming to save us all!"

"Oh, get real, Dreamy." Handy rolls his eyes and turns around to keep working on whatever it is he was working on. "The village doesn't need to be saved."

"Yeah, shug. We dun' need some'un t' save us. Papa smurf always saves us." Farmer says shrugging his shoulders.

"Believe you me, Dreamy, The only thing that needs saving is my patience." Vanity says strutting away.

I shake my head and keep running through the village. Next I see Harmony, Greedy, and Brainy.

"Smurfs! Smurfs! I just had a vision!" I call to them.

"Is it about a new pie recipe?" Greedy, the rotund compulsive eater asks, stuffing a cupcake in his mouth with a jolly grin.

I shake my head violently. "No, Greedy!" I say, "MUCH more important!"

He pouts a little then returns to his kitchen. "No vision is better than new pie recopies!" he simply states.

Harmony too finds reason for escape, and I corner Brainy. "Dreamy, Dreamy, DREAMY! The possibility of YOU having a prophetic dream versus Papa smurf or even ME is smurf to none! You probably got a bad knock to the head." Brainy says, walking away.

I expected him not to believe. Although what I don't expect is for almost everysmurf in the village to say almost exactly the same thing! Desperate, I finally find Nat and Lazy and Hefty talking with Handy, Farmer and Greedy. "Nat, Lazy, Hefty! You just have to hear me out. I had a vision in the forest today!"

"Aw, dad gum, shugah. Not this again!" Farmer says shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"I've already heard this one. See ya later, guys." Handy says, leaving with Farmer.

"I just remembered! I have a cake in the oven!" Greedy says shock in his face as he hightails his chubby body as fast as his legs can carry him.

"You guys, in my vision, the whole village was under attack! And- and- and- and then I met the most beautiful woman, no- ANGEL! And she said she was going to come here to save us all!" I stutter in wonder.

Lazy rolls over and gives a great big yawn "that's ridiculous, Dreamy, even for you." He says groggily.

"Yeah, Dreamy. You're going off with your head in the clouds again! We don't need saving." Nat adds.

"My head's NOT in the clouds, Nat! I'm completely serious!" I argue with him, "Someday soon we're gonna need someone to save us all!"

Lazy has fallen back to sleep again. Nat has that annoyed look on his face again. I turn to Hefty. "Hefty, you've GOTTA believe me…" I plead, my eyes wide and desperate. "If you don't believe me, no one will…"

Hefty looks at me with doubt, and shrugs his shoulder. "I- I'm sorry, Dreamy." He says with his shoulders shrugged. "I just don't believe that all this could ever need an angel to save it." he says, gesturing to everything.

My heart drops into my stomach. I feel tears bubble out of my eyes. Not even my own brother believes me…. "Hey you smurfs!" A voice interrupts my thoughts, "It's Iceberry harvest time and you four are smurfing it up by the well?"

Hefty, Lazy and Nat snap to attention while I stand, still emotionally numb. "Sorry Papa Smurf!" they say in unison.

Papa smurf comes from behind me, hand on his hip, other hand scolding. "'Sorry' won't smurf it if we run out of food before the spring because four little smurfs didn't do their chores!" He says, sounding annoyed. "Now get moving!"

Hefty, Lazy and Nat all give a final "Yes Papa smurf!" And hightail it to the Iceberry trees. Then Papa smurf turns to see me, not having moved from my spot. "Dreamy!" he says, more annoyed than angry. "I told you to get moving!"

"I know, I know Papa smurf! But I have to tell you about my vision!" I try and get his attention.

He rubs his temples with his thumb and forefinger and shakes his head "Later, Dreamy. Later!" he starts walking away. "Now get your head out of the clouds and get to work!"

Not feeling so smurfy anymore, I walk back to my house. Once I close my front door, I finally break down. It's finally happened. Now no one in the village takes my dreams seriously… What was I thinking, leaving the house today? I'm doing no better than yesterday, or the day before…

I wanna get out of this smurforsaken village. Away from their words, away from their menial chores, away from… from their memories… I wanna travel FAR away! AWAY from Handy, AWAY from Farmer, AWAY from Vanity, AWAY from Brainy, AWAY from Nat, Lazy, Hefty, Papa and Fl-

My heart feels like its been stabbed, and I can't even complete the thought. No. I can't leave… I think. Fly's memory keeps me anchored here… No matter how hard I try, there is no way I can leave this place… Smurfit, I hate it here… All their delusions of never-ending happiness their ideals of neutrality, their willingness to shut out anything they don't wanna see or hear… I HATE IT HERE. It was manageable when Fly was here… but now that he's gone…. I don't know how much longer I can continue this façade…


	13. Chapter 13 Live As One

Hefty, Handy, and Papa smurf walk slowly into Painter's studio. "Now are you sure you want to do this, Hefty?" Papa smurf asks him, all solemnity in his face. "Once you get these, they can never come off."

Hefty takes a deep breath. "That's exactly why I'm doing it, Papa smurf." He says with his haughty smile.

Painter is in the far end of his studio, cleaning an assortment of sharp needles shaped like pen nibs with a disinfectant that Papa smurf gave him. Once he is confident that the needles are fee of any and all pathogens, he takes them in his hands and carries them to where Hefty is sitting. He returns to the back of his studio to retrieve the inks he just finished mixing this morning. He solemnly stretches rubber gloves over his hands, and readies his needles. "Ehh—one last check- Are you SURE, monsieur Hefty?" Painter asks, looking at Hefty seriously.

Hefty has his head turned away from the needles in Painter's hands. He is sitting in a reclining chair, holding the hands of Papa smurf and Handy for support. "Yes, yes… Please hurry it up." He says, anxiously, "Just follow the same pattern as the airbrush, and add Al and Fly's names to the hearts." He says.

Painter shrugs his shoulders and uses his fingers to stretch Hefty's skin. "Ah warn you ahead of time, no? Zees hurt like nothing you have evair smurfed before!" Painter warned.

Hefty's foot started to tap against nothing anxiously. "Yes, yes, I know, let's get on with it!" he says impatiently.

Painter dips his largest needle into the black ink and uses the point to quickly jab in and out of Hefty's skin, along the heart outline. Working as quickly and carefully as possible, he dabs away the excess ink away, leaving a smooth black outline. Next, he switches to an instrument that looks like a brush made entirely out of needles. He dips it into the red ink pot to his left and repeats the previous procedure. While all the while, Hefty is squeezing the hands of his friends, curling his toes, and gritting his teeth in pain. Hefty is undoubtedly the toughest smurf in the village- but even he has his limits! Halfway through the red inking of the tattoo, he waves his other hand "Ok, I-I-I need a break." He says, wiping his forehead.

He releases his grip on Handy and Papa smurf. Handy shakes his hand in the air. "PHEW! I thought you were gonna break my hand!" he remarks.

After a few moments rest, he starts again. Painter keeps dabbing the inked area with a cloth, blotting away the excess ink. It doesn't take long before the entire tattoo is filled.

"Okay… would you liak to do ze lettairing today, or wait til next time?" Painter asks.

Hefty swallows hard. "Today. I'm not gonna come back a second time. Gonna get all this done now!" he says stubbornly.

Painter takes a smaller needle and carefully imprints "Flying Smurf" in black ink inside the red heart tattoo on his right arm. "There! Mai mastairpizza of ze flesh! Eet is finished!" he proudly declares.

Hefty looks at his new ink in a nearby mirror. It is still sore to the touch, but looks fantastic. "Thanks, Painter! Worth every minute of it!" Hefty remarks, flexing his muscle.

"Ahaha! Merci! Merci!" Painter remarks, "And we are smurfing ze othair heart as well, no?"

"Yes, I would like to get the other arm done and over with." Hefty says, turning his head towards the opposite direction.

Painter repeats the process, which takes about an hour and a half despite his quick pace. "Hmm! Look mighty fine, Painter!" Hefty says, admiring his new tattoos.

Painter claps his hands in celebration "Oui! Merci, merci mai friend!" he says, shaking Hefty's hand. "Come back anytime!"

"Thanks Painter! I'm gonna go show these to Dreamy! Boy will he get a smurf outta this!" Hefty remarks, still admiring his new look.

"That sounds like a smurfy idea, Hefty! I'll go with you." Papa smurf says, standing from his seat and holding his sore hand.

The two smurfs walk happily towards the mushroom house on the northeast side of the village. Hefty knocks on the door. "Hey Dreamy! Open up, I wanna show you something!" Hefty calls into the house.

No answer comes from behind the door. Hefty knocks again "Dreamy, buddy? You in there?" He calls.

The door opens with the squeal of old hinges when Hefty knocks on it. Something is amiss in the house. "Dreamy? Are you home?" Papa smurf calls into the house.

"Something's not right," Hefty says, eyebrows furrowed.

He steps into the house, looking in the kitchen. "Look, Papa smurf. There's not a single dish in the sink!" Hefty says gesturing at the empty sink. "There's not a pin out of place in here…"

"This shocks you?" Papa smurf asks.

"Yeah. Dreamy is really bad about dishes. I know, I'm his brother." Hefty responds. "Dreamy? Dreamyyyy?" He calls down the mini- hall.

Hefty turns to Papa smurf. "I'm going to go check the bedroom. I'll be right back."

Papa smurf nods in return, scratching his beard in uncertainty. Hefty follows the mini-hallway to the bedroom. For once in his life, Dreamy's bed was made. There was no clutter on the desk, only his prized red-leather bound Dream Journal. Sitting on the pillow on the bed, there is a neatly folded note. Hefty picks it up and sits on the bed. He slowly unfolds the note and reads it start to finish. Hefty's eyes widen and fill with tears as he reads. "P-p-p-p-PAPA SMUUUUUUUUURRF!" he cries out.

Nat, Lazy, Handy, and Smurfette with Baby sit with a dumbfounded Hefty smurf as Papa smurf reads the note. "It reads:

'_Dear friends, _

_Where is 'the clouds'? And why do you all tell me to keep my head out of there? Maybe the clouds is where I can see my beloved again. Maybe it's a place that I can tell everyone my dreams without interruptions. Or maybe it's just a place where I don't feel your judgments and mean words. You may say I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one. There are more people like me than you think. Like what someone I loved told me once: the world needs more dreamers… Dreamer…. Heh. Fly used to call me that… It's actually kind of funny. You all call me dreamer in a derogatory way, yet to me and Fly it was a term of endearment. I'm not sure who it reflects badly on. _

_Either way, wherever 'the clouds' is, that's where you'll find all of me, not just my head. Golly. I wonder what will happen to me. Through letting Gargamel eat me, I suppose it's suicide, yet since it's not by my own smurf, maybe its not. Huh. Never had any dreams about that. Either way, maybe I'll see Fly again…._

_Tell Nat and Lazy not to be sad. Just because I want to leave here for something better, is not their fault._

_Tell Handy that maybe I can send my dreams to him. He has the technical know- how to put it all together, cause again, I AM just a dreamer. _

_Most importantly, Tell my twin brother Hefty that I love him, and that I'm sorry I hurt him… If the arrival of a baby smurf is once, maybe twice in a lifetime, TWINS are probably once in a SMURFTIME. You're the brother that everysmurf WISHED they could have… I love you, please don't be mad with me…_

_I couldn't stand being stuck here anymore…._

_With love and wishes for a better future,_

_Dreamy Smurf. ' _

Great smurfs…." Papa smurf says, finishing the letter.

"Ohhh, we have to save him, Papa smurf!" Smurfette exclaims.

"I'm gonna go save him!" Hefty stands, already starting to walk out the door.

"Not alone you're not! I'm going with you" Handy says joining him

"Dreamy's MY best friend too! I'm gonna help!" Nat says, his voice full of childish determination.

"You must hurry, my little smurfs! There's no time to lose!" Papa smurf shouts after them

* * *

><p>Here he is. The smurfstard who killed my Fly. "Gargamel. I don't want to live anymore. Smurf me your best shot."<p>

The evil wizard is taken aback by my request. "Whaaay? This is some sort of trick!" He booms.

Azrael hisses and bats his paws at me. "No tricks Gargamel. Ever since you ate those smurfs… I've had nothing left to live for…"I say, letting the mean old cat swipe at me.

The evil wizard laughs. "Mwahahaha! What luck, Azrael! It's not often dinner jumps right into our soup pot!" he shouts grabbing me violently.

He herds me aggressively into a little wooden cage. Not that I would escape. I'm going to see my darling. No questions about it. I've come too far to back out now. Gargamel prepares a roll, decorating it with lettuce, tomatoes and other greenery. Just the way Fly died… I think to myself.

The evil sorcerer slathers the bread in honey and reaches for the cage. "Loose the hat and pants. Smurf clothing gives me terrible indigestion!" He says, turning to give me some privacy.

Humiliated, I strip myself down and lay face down in the bread. "Okay. You can look now." I call, trying to keep my voice steady. "I- I'm ready to go now."

* * *

><p>"We're almost there Hefty!" Handy says, leaping over a fallen log.<p>

"I know! Keep moving!" Hefty yells back to his friend, running as fast as his athletic legs can carry him.

Nat, being younger has some trouble keeping up. His squirrel friends help him with that. Soon, they come to the place where the forest ends and the bog begins. They frantically cross the bridge to Gargamel's hovel. Leaping through the window, the smurfs have reached their destination.

* * *

><p><em>This honey feels strange against my skin…<em>

_The roll's nice and soft…._

_I wonder where I'll go after…?_

_Will Fly be there too….?_

_Say. That sounds like Hefty crying. He came for me…._

_Blech. Gargamel's breath smells like rotten smurfberries and tomatoes!_

I think of the music to that song I heard in my dream…

_You may say, I'm a dreamer_

_But I'm not the only one._

_I hope someday you'll join us_

_And the world will be as-_

_._

* * *

><p>"DREAMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" Hefty cries out, bawling at the top of his smurfy lungs.<p>

The strong smurf collapses to his knees, pounding the floor with his fist. "No... NO NO NO NO NO NO! NO!" He sobs angrily clutching his brother's hat to his chest in utter despair, "This was all my fault! DREAMYYYY!"

"Oh God, Dreamy..." Nat says, big, childish tears rolling down his face. "H-he can't be gone…."

Handy rushes to his friend's side, trying to get him to stand up. "Hefty, it wasn't your fault! Don't- don't say that!" Handy yells, trying his hardest not to cry.

Hefty continues his sobbing. "W-w-w-we were TWINS for smurfs sake! I should've known he was in pain! I should've KNOWN!" he sobs hysterically.

"Well, if you feel so guilty," Gargamel cackles, "There's ALWAYS room for seconds!"

Gargamel tries to capture Handy, but he moves out of the way just in time. "Not on your smurf, Gargamel! C'mon, Hefty!"

Hefty doesn't budge from his spot. "I- I- I don't wanna…" He blubbers, "Just let him eat me…."

Handy wouldn't take that for an answer "Oh, no you don't! Don't YOU start too! C'mon!" he says, grabbing Hefty off the ground and running out the front door with Nat.

"I-I-I'm Sorry, Dreamy!" he wails above all the noise and commotion. "FORGIVE ME!"

* * *

><p><em>I forgive you, Hefty.<em>

_Fly forgives you too._

_Thank you for being my big brother, Hefty._

_I love you._

_Always….._


	14. Chapter 14 Epilogue

Epilogue:

"Hefty, are you sure you want to do this?" Handy asks his best friend, holding his hand reassuringly.

The strong smurf nods his head powerfully. "It's for Dreamy. I've never been more sure of anything in my life." He says.

Painter reclines in the chair so that Hefty is lying perfectly flat. He has already disinfected all of his needles and mixed his inks. Now Hefty was returning after almost two months to get a new tattoo. Papa smurf is away on business, but Handy is still there, providing support for his best friend in any way he can. "Are you sure that's where you want it, Hefty?" He asks, a tad confused. "That seems like an odd place for a tattoo."

"Yes, Handy. I'm sure that's where I want it." Hefty confirms.

Hefty grabs the chair arms to brace himself. "Ready when you are, Painter." He says with a deep breath.

Ever so carefully, Painter dips a finer needle into the black ink. He stretches Hefty's skin with his thumb and forefinger and jabs the fine needle in and out until he is satisfied with the lettering effects he produces. Since this tattoo is significantly smaller, it only takes about a half-hour to make and touch up. "Sa magnifique! Bravo, my friend!" Hefty says, admiring the artist's work in the mirror.

"Ah! Merci! Merci! But may Ah ask, mon ami- why under ze muscle? Why not over ze heart?" Painter asks.

The tattoo is a single six- letter word in curvy, fancy font directly underneath Hefty's left pectoral. "Because, Painter. That was the first place that hurt when I found out." He answers, feeling the spot. "And it was also the first place that started feeling better later."

The six letter word on his chest in curvy fancy font:

_Dreamy_


End file.
